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THE   LOVE    LEGEND 


THE   LOVE   LEGEND 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK     ::     ::     ::     ::     1922 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BT 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


Published  in  October,  1922 


TO 
GRACE   WOODWARD 

AND 

DUNCAN   M.    SMITH 


2134231 


CONTENTS 

PACK 

BOOK     I.  ANITA i 

BOOK    n.  SARI 97 

BOOK  III.  DIZZY 187 

BOOK  IV.  WARD 255 


BOOK  ONE 
ANITA 


CHAPTER  I 

WARD  HARRIS,  at  twenty,  wore  a  virginal  look  like 
golden  rain  infiltrated  through  the  stuff  of  a  morning 
meadow;  a  look  that  came  from  her  trust  in  the  love 
legend,  in  which  she  had  put  all  the  capital  of  her 
youthful  hopes,  since  her  mother's  whispered  story  of 
the  prince  who  was  to  come  and  change  the  world 
with  a  magic  kiss.  Thus  Mrs.  Harris  phrased  it — her 
theory  that  four  men,  exhibiting  popular  superlatives, 
like  models  smirking  in  pink  and  yellow  gowns  at  a 
fashion  show,  were  to  take  form  in  her  household  and, 
after  suitable  rites  and  emotional  upheavals,  unite 
themselves  in  marriage  with  her  four  daughters,  Anita, 
Ward,  Sari  and  Dizzy. 

This  tradition  was  matter  for  amusement  for  the 
three  girls,  Nita,  Sari  and  Dizzy.  Ward  alone  was 
credulous  about  the  perfection  of  her  future  life. 
Delicately  beautiful,  immaculate,  exquisite,  Ward 
seemed  meant  by  nature  for  the  heroine  of  a  fairy 
tale.  She  had  seriously  tried  to  follow  her  mother's 
suggestion  that  she  gaze  upon  the  eternal  hills  and  the 
everlasting  seas  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  poise — a 
quality  which  she  had  unconsciously  possessed  since 
babyhood.  She  hoped  in  this  way  to  win  her  flawless 
husband,  who  would,  of  course,  be  attracted  solely  by 
her  goodness,  sweetness  and  purity. 

II 

This  hot  July  afternoon  Ward  came  out  of  the 
house  to  stroll  down  to  the  lake.  Her  mother  and 

3 


4  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Mrs.  Partridge,  who  lived  across  the  street,  were  shel- 
tered by  the  porch  from  the  young,  blue  world  of  sea 
and  sky.  They  could  taste  the  cool,  fresh  odor  of 
Michigan,  crystal  cold,  in  a  wavering  breeze  that  laz- 
ily brushed  by.  The  laughter  of  happy  children 
swimming  and  dabbling  in  the  water  floated  up  to 
them,  as  Ward,  smiling  and  murmuring  phrases  of 
greeting  and  farewell,  crossed  their  vision  and  passed 
out  of  sight. 

The  visitor  leaned  forward  in  the  wicker  porch 
chair  and  spoke  in  a  low  tone,  quickened  with  melo- 
dramatic enjoyment. 

"Don't  let  that  man  Wicker  come  near  Ward." 
Mrs.  Harris  looked  up  from  her  sewing  with  a  startled 
eye,  casting  herself  effortlessly  into  the  role  of  chicken 
mother  protecting  her  offspring  under  her  wing — a 
picture  she  was  ever  cherishing  of  herself  and  seldom 
being  allowed  to  portray. 

Mrs.  Partridge  related  her  bit  of  gossip  in  a  low 
voice  which  sounded  at  a  distance  like  the  hum  of 
some  fine  piece  of  machinery;  machinery  which  turned 
out  such  industriously  collected  scraps  with  all  the 
perfection  of  an  art  cultivated  through  some  forty  or 
fifty  thousand  female  ancestors.  "*  *  *  and  I  know 
how  dear  Ward  is  always  the  magnet  for  any  new  man 
that  comes  to  town,  and  I  did  feel  that  I  ought  to  tell 
you  what  I  know  about  this  man." 

Mrs.  Harris,  who  had  been  enjoying  the  incident  by 
shaking  her  head  and  looking  grave  over  what  her 
daughters  would  have  described  as  the  juiciest  parts 
of  the  entertainment,  thanked  Mrs.  Partridge  soberly 
and  said  she  would  certainly  speak  to  her  girls. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


III 


Lakeshore,  a  division  of  Chicago,  like  all  small  com- 
munities, had  its  own  village  cast  of  characters;  a  wo- 
man's club,  led  by  Mrs.  Partridge,  a  book  club  with 
members  who  yearned,  and  a  country  club  with  a 
cheerful  aroma  of  immorality  sitting  rakishly  on  its 
towers  and  terraces  like  a  halo  askew  on  the  head  of 
a  drunken  saint. 

Of  this  neighborhood,  Mrs.  Harris  was  the  grand 
dame,  taken  seriously,  feared  and  fawned  upon  by 
everyone  but  her  own  daughters.  Her  father  had  at- 
tained some  degree  of  wealth  by  selling  much  of  his 
land  in  the  vicinity  to  the  Illinois  Steel  company, 
which  throbbed  and  bellowed  to  the  south  of  them  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Calumet  river.  Mrs.  Harris  had  in- 
herited the  house  and  a  moderate  income  when  he  died, 
and  had  come,  a  newly  widowed  with  four  children,  to 
live  in  it  five  years  before. 

In  her  early  twenties  she  had  left  Lakeshore  to 
marry  the  Reverend  Tyndall  Harris  of  Hyde  Park,  a 
town  which  then  lay  between  the  village  of  Lake- 
shore  and  Chicago.  Born  with  a  talent  for  visiting  the 
poor,  relieving  the  sick  and  converting  the  heathen,  a 
minister's  wife  was  to  her  the  ideal  position.  And 
Tyndall  Harris  was  youthful,  brilliant  and  sincere — 
she  could  easily  classify  him  as  a  fairy  prince,  espe- 
cially in  retrospect. 

People  called  him  the  greatest  churchman  in  the 
middle  west,  the  only  intellectual  in  his  profession, 
other  hyperboles  treasured  by  her.  Those  days! 
Their  memory  was  her  secret  life  of  which  Ward  was 
the  living  symbol,  for  Nita  and  Ward  had  been  born 
during  this  happy  period. 


6  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

But  before  Sari  was  born  tragedy  came.  Tyndall 
Harris  repudiated  the  church,  and  in  his  own  dramat- 
ic, uncompromising  way,  surrendered  his  position  in 
the  community  and  went  into  the  department  of  Eng 
lish  Literature  at  the  University  of  Chicago.  Evolu- 
tion, materialism,  socialism.  Socialism  was  the  new 
Christianity  that  was  to  remedy  the  evils  of  society, 
and  it  was  a  banner  under  which  his  passionately  cru- 
sading nature  could  march. 

Socialism,  the  whole  pot  of  it,  sweetened  by  his  own 
aesthetic  and  imaginative  gifts,  filtered  through  his  lec- 
tures in  English  literature,  crept  into  his  essays,  and 
was  openly  expressed  to  his  ever-growing  Sunday 
evening  following. 

In  the  bitter  months  before  Sari  was  born  Mrs. 
Harris  strove  to  adjust  herself  to  the  new  order.  Her 
inner  life,  of  intimate  contact  with  a  great,  holy  man, 
was  gone.  She  spent  hours  on  her  knees,  imagining 
that  she  was  trying  to  forgive  her  husband,  and  for  a 
period  she  thought  with  a  mind  unmisted  by  senti- 
ment. Then  she  wove  a  new  curtain  of  illusions 
which  had  shut  out  unpleasant  realities  ever  since. 

IV 

Dizzy,  the  youngest,  became  her  father's  constant 
companion.  She  followed  him  about  like  a  small  dog 
and  took  over  his  philosophy  with  ardent  interest. 
His  thoughts  were  her  thoughts,  and  five  years  after 
his  death  he  was  still  the  strongest  influence  in  her 
life.  She  saw  life  with  an  intellectual  and  caustic  eye, 
even  at  sixteen.  She  had  decided  that  love  was  merely 
the  mating  instinct,  a  chemical  process. 

Sari,  too,  scoffed  unmercifully  at  the  love  legend. 
She  was  now  eighteen  and  in  open  rebellion  against 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  7 

her  mother.  She  had  graduated  from  Lakeshore  high 
school  that  spring  and  had  intentions  of  going  on  the 
stage  as  a  dancer;  she  was  studying  with  a  profes- 
sional, unknown  to  her  mother,  who  supposed  that 
Sari's  daily  lessons  and  hot,  long  hours  at  the  studio, 
portended  nothing  more  than  a  parlor  accomplishment 
— a  horror  still  fashionable  in  her  mind.  Meanwhile 
Sari — she  had  been  christened  Sarah  but  had  adopted 
the  Hungarian  name  which  she  pronounced  Sharree — 
took  every  opportunity  for  flirting  that  offered.  She 
scattered  kisses  in  a  way  to  cause  the  prince  to  mount 
his  noble  steed  and  leave  her  in  outer  darkness.  Care- 
less of  this  approaching  disaster,  Sari  had  fixed  her 
mind  on  a  career  similar  to  Pavlowa's  and  was  secretly 
looking  forward  to  the  first  of  August,  when  she  was 
to  make  her  professional  debut. 

Nita,  the  oldest,  who  was  twenty-two — the  sisters 
were  two  years  apart — had  accepted  the  love  legend, 
outwardly,  adding  inwardly,  the  true  American  philos- 
ophy that  you  have  to  work  for  what  you  get;  her 
husband  would  come  along  because  she  would  make 
him  come.  Her  ambition  was  popular  success  in  what 
she  called  art — magazine  covers  her  goal.  She  had 
adopted  Christian  Science  as  her  religion  at  the  age 
of  sixteen,  and  was  the  best  friend  of  her  sister  Ward, 
whom  she  hood-winked,  as  she  did  most  women — a 
woman's  idol,  Nita. 


CHAPTER  II 
I 

MRS.  PARTRIDGE  had  just  risen  to  leave  when  Ward 
returned  from  the  lake  accompanied  by  a  pink  and 
white  young  man  whose  yellow  locks  shone  like  a 
Swedish  servant  girl's. 

When  Ward  had  presented  him  it  developed  that  he 
was  a  member  of  one  of  those  choice  organizations 
which  are  able  to  hold  the  social  reins  in  most  Ameri- 
can colleges;  that  Ward  had  met  him  the  winter  be- 
fore when  he  had  come  up  from  the  University  of  Cali- 
fornia to  attend  the  fraternity  convention  in  Chicago; 
that  he  had  finished  his  engineering  course  at  Berkely 
that  June;  that  he  had  been  sent  to  the  steel  mills  with 
two  other  young  men  to  begin  a  career;  that  the  three 
young  men  were  living  in  a  boarding  house  together, 
being  fortunate  members  of  the  same  organization; 
and  that  he  was  to  bring  the  other  two  over  that  eve- 
ning to  call.  Mrs.  Partridge,  who  frequently  gave  in- 
formal talks  to  groups  of  Lakeshore  women  on  the 
moral  baseness  of  men,  paradoxically  suggested  a 
beach  party  that  the  young  men  might  meet  several 
of  the  girls  of  Lakeshore,  including  her  own  daughter 
Helene. 

The  idea  was  echoed  by  Ward  and  her  mother  and 
a  moment  or  so  later  by  Anita,  who  came  up  the  street 
from  the  train  flushed  with  the  heat  of  the  day,  her 
curly,  black  hair  loosened  a  bit  under  her  shade  hat. 
She  had  been  in  the  studio  all  day  working  in  oils  and 
felt  the  atmosphere  of  paint  on  her  still,  as  Ward  in- 
troduced her  to  Howard  Blackton. 

8 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  9 

Anita's  eyes  gave  the  effect  of  being  black  under 
their  long  lashes.  When  she  was  interested,  as  she 
was  now,  they  opened  wide  and  seemed  to  absorb  im- 
pressions, to  flash  a  vigorous  interest  in  the  person 
with  whom  she  was  talking.  She  gave  herself  to 
Blackton,  unusually.  He  seemed  interested,  also  unu- 
sually, for  Nita  was  the  sort  of  girl,  not  beautiful,  but 
well  groomed,  who  fetched  a  retinue  of  feminine  wor- 
shipers, but  left  most  young  men  cold. 

II 

She  thought  about  him  as  she  made  herself  ready 
for  dinner.  She  had  liked  the  solid  way  hi  which  he 
planted  his  feet  on  the  pavement  as  he  walked  away. 
She  liked  his  smooth,  fine-grained  skin,  his  stocky  air 
of  solidness,  as  if  he  were  just  on  the  edge  of  becoming 
a  responsible  business  man. 

For,  of  late,  sex  had  been  bothering  her.  She  did 
not  yearn  for  love,  but  she  hated  to  miss  anything. 
Dandiacal  in  the  trappings  of  sentiment,  her  naked 
self  was  firm  and  purposeful.  She  had  spent  her 
twenty-two  years  in  becoming  the  wholesome  Ameri- 
can girl,  the  typical  college  girl,  which  she  smugly  was. 

As  the  typical  American  girl  she  adroitly  press- 
agented  herself,  and  was  accepted  by  the  girls  and 
women  of  Lakeshore,  her  university  contemporaries 
and  other  enthusiastic  feminine  acquaintances.  They 
liked  her.  They  understood  her.  She  did  the  things 
they  admired  in  a  way  they  admired.  Her  subtle 
publicity,  curtained  by  a  sophisticated  manner,  clev- 
erly concealed  the  bragging  she  did.  When  she 
showed  one  of  her  drawings  she  was  able  to  throw  off 
an  impression  of  carelessness — it  was  nothing  to  what 
she  could  do,  her  feminine  audience  felt.  She  worked 


10  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

hard  to  maintain  this  surface  appearance  of  ease, 
which  was  dear  to  her  heart.  In  her  conversation  she 
scorned  popularity,  and  yet  allowed  it  to  be  obvious 
that  she  was  the  most  liked  member  of  the  family. 

She  was  conventional  enough  to  want  to  ally  her- 
self with  some  church  and  so  turned  to  a  religion 
which  promised  success  in  every  line  of  work.  Chris- 
tian Science,  she  said,  worked  wonders  for  her. 
Through  it  she  intended  to  get  what  she  wanted  and 
understood, — success, — the  big  end  of  the  bargain. 
Truth,  beauty,  art,  love,  justice,  were  mere  disguises 
with  her  for  the  one  word,  success. 

Ill 

In  the  kitchen  Ward  was  fixing  the  salad  for  dinner 
when  Sari,  in  a  bathrobe,  hot  and  barefooted,  bounded 
wrathfully  in,  demanding  to  know  why  her  bath  water 
wasn't  heated. 

An  old  woman  stirred  something  at  the  kitchen 
stove.  At  first  glance  this  old  woman  seemed  as 
amazing  and  intricate  as  the  smart  young  women  who 
emulate  the  fashions  as  depicted  hi  Harper's  Bazaar 
and  Vogue.  Not  only  were  her  sunken  cheeks  red- 
dened but  she  was  whitewashed  over  the  place  where 
the  gums  fell  away.  Lips  were  painted  on  her  face 
in  the  shape  of  a  cupid's  bow,  but  her  own  lips,  shaped 
on  more  generous  lines,  made  a  feeble  protest  of  indi- 
viduality underneath.  Her  deep-set  eyes  were  ringed 
with  black,  and  her  eyebrows,  which  for  some  reason 
she  had  neglected  to  pull  out,  though  it  was  the  fash- 
ion, hung  weedy  and  unkempt  on  the  projection  of 
her  forehead.  Endless  detail  clung  to  her,  little  bows, 
crimped  hair,  ruffles,  ribbons.  Her  figure,  slightly 
hunched  at  the  shoulders,  was  hung  with  odds  and 
ends  of  clothing. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  11 

"No  hot  water,  of  course,"  said  Sari,  shaking  her 
bobbed  head  to  emphasize  the  outrage.  "After  work- 
ing myself  cock-eyed  at  the  studio  all  day  to  come 
home  to  find  that  this  family  has  used  up  every 
drop—" 

Cock-eyed  was  one  of  the  conversational  staples 
that  Sari  used  quite  indiscriminately.  It  meant  every- 
thing, anything,  or  nothing.  This  time  she  meant  to 
convey  a  state  of  extreme  exhaustion  due  to  heat  and 
work. 

Ward  turned  to  the  ancient  at  the  stove. 

"You  must  have  forgotten  to  light  the  gas  under 
the  tank  when  I  told  you  to,  Olive — " 

"Well,  yes'm.  I  didn't  see  no  sense  in  having  it 
lighted.  Besides  I'm  scared  of  these  here  gas  lighters 
— never  know  when  a  person  is  going  to  get  her  head 
knocked  off." 

Sari  stared  at  the  woman  Olive  in  surprise  which 
swiftly  merged  into  merriment.  She  was  new  in  the 
household,  one  of  the  string  of  fluctuating  housemaids 
that  were  always  passing  through  the  Harris  estab- 
lishment. 

A  caricature  like  Olive  was  an  open  sesame  to  a  sea 
of  mirth  in  which  the  four  girls  could  loose  themselves. 
Though  each  carried  an  inner  personality,  deadly  ser- 
ious and  secret,  she  could  throw  it  to  the  winds  when 
touched  by  the  comic,  tasting  a  perfect  companionship 
with  her  sisters  in  laughter. 

So  Sari  flung  herself  down  the  stairs  shrieking  into 
her  bare  arm,  collapsed  against  the  water  heater,  weak 
with  hilarity.  She  lit  the  gas  and  scrambled  up  the 
two  flights  of  stairs  to  share  her  discovery  with  Anita. 
Ward  joined  them  and  they  rolled  on  the  bed,  as  de- 
lighted as  puppies  because  they  all  three  found  Olive 
genuinely  funny. 


12  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


IV 

Mrs.  Harris,  at  the  head  of  her  table,  futilely  loving, 
vaguely  anxious,  was  a  dulled  nonentity,  barely  exist- 
ing in  the  minds  of  her  four  daughters.  And  yet,  each 
was  her  own  reflection.  It  was  as  if  she  had  origi- 
nally possessed  all  their  vital  qualities,  but  had  ejected 
them,  one  by  one,  and  now  only  exhibited  faded  facets 
that  were  brilliantly  mirrored  in  her  children. 

The  four  girls  sat  there,  discontented  and  restless, 
each  concerned  with  her  own  perturbations,  concen- 
trating on  her  own  desires.  All  were  eager  to  plunge 
into  the  race  of  life  and  win — win  prizes — there  were 
to  be  no  blanks — each  being  held  back  for  different 
reasons,  chafed  and  fretted  and  showed  her  dislike  for 
her  situation  in  sporadic  attempts  at  domestic  reform. 

The  entrance  of  Olive  signalled  suppressed  giggles 
from  Ward,  Sari  and  Anita,  but  as  the  old  creature 
trailed  out  of  the  room,  Dizzy  turned  on  them  fu- 
riously. Her  pig-tails  cadenced  her  pungent  sarcasm 
as  she  nodded,  first  to  Sari,  then  to  Nita,  then  to  Ward. 

"That's  awfully  funny,  isn't  it?  Extremely  humor- 
ous to  see  an  old  woman  working  in  someone's  kitchen 
to  keep  from  starving!" 

"It  is  pathetic,"  said  Anita,  "but  the  way  she  gets 
herself  up  is  so  killing." 

"We'll  have  to  lock  up  all  our  cosmetics,"  said 
Ward,  lilts  of  laughter  in  her  voice.  "She's  such  a 
beauty  that  I'm  afraid  to  have  her  in  the  house  for 
fear  she'll  attract  all  our  beaux." 

"Why  it  is  any  worse  for  her  to  lay  snares  to  at- 
tract men  than  it  is  for  Ward,  I  cannot  see,"  observed 
TAsacf  ia  the  same  accusing  tone. 

'^Elizabeth,"  protested  her  mother. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  13 

"Well,  Ward  does  try  to  attract  men,"  said  Dizzy, 
with  the  frock-coated  manner  of  a  public  speaker. 
"A  man  isn't  safe  within  a  mile  of  her.  And  why? 
Why?  Because  she  is  so  beautiful  that  they  can't 
resist  her?  No.  Because  she  won't  let  them  resist 
her.  In  vulgar  language  she's  a  vamp.  And  why  it's 
any  worse  for  this  old  kitchen  drudge  to  be  one  than 
it  is  for  Ward,  I  cannot  see." 

"Ward  is  successful  occasionally,"  observed  Anita, 
with  a  detached,  superior  air  she  gave  all  of  the  fam- 
ily, except  Ward,  most  of  the  time. 

"Yes!"  Dizzy  clipped  out  the  monosyllable.  They 
were  still  laughing.  She  went  on,  attempting  to  mar- 
shal an  argument  as  she  had  heard  members  of  the 
Socialist  party  do  on  the  debating  platform.  "Suc- 
cess! That  is  all  you  care  about.  You'd  excuse  any- 
thing on  the  ground  of  success.  Caesar  Borgia, 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  Captain  Kidd  were  success- 
ful, too,  but  it  doesn't  follow  that  they  were  virtuous, 
does  it?  They  were  all  crooks — " 

"Diz  has  such  an  awful  lot  of  statistics  to  work  out 
of  her  system,"  interrupted  Sari,  "she's  always  spill- 
ing 'em — " 

"Successful!"  said  Diz,  finding  her  point  with  the 
satisfaction  of  a  baby  discovering  a  lost  nipple.  "What 
if  Ward  is  successful?  That  only  makes  it  worse. 
There  is  absolutely  no  justification  in  it  for  Ward.  It 
is  pure  dissipation  with  her.  She  indulges  herself  in 
breaking  men's  hearts  just  for  her  own  amusement. 
But  with  this  poor  old  creature  it  is  a  case  of  economic 
necessity.  Why,  she  realizes  that  unless  she  gets  some 
man  to  support  her  she  can  spend  her  old  age  in  the 
poorhouse.  And  so,  she  is  desperately  trying  the  arts 
and  wiles  of  the  modern  girl.  She  made  a  mistake  in 


14  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

not  marrying  when  she  was  younger  and  she  realizes 
it  now,  so  she  is  doing  her  bes — " 

"Dear  me,  Dizzy,  you're  becoming  quite  sentimen- 
tal over  the  old  girl,"  Anita  said. 

"Sentimental!"  Dizzy  exclaimed.  It  was  the  one 
charge  she  could  not  endure.  She  dropped  her  fork 
and  collapsed  suddenly  into  silence,  regarding  a  spot 
on  the  wall  across  from  her  for  some  moments  in  des- 
perate thought  about  the  stupidity  of  her  family. 

The  platitude  that  sixteen  is  wiser  than  sixty  was 
exemplified  in  Dizzy.  She  was  unable  to  conceive  of 
such  a  thing  as  mystery.  To  her,  most  problems  were 
nothing.  All  knowledge  existed  for  her  to  acquire. 
She  had  merely  to  study.  Life  lay  before  her  like  a 
partly  colored  map  of  the  world.  There  were  one  or 
two  places  still  to  be  crayoned.  When  she  had  fin- 
ished school  the  chart  would  be  filled  in.  She  would 
know  everything.  She  considered  herself  to  be  free 
from  all  the  weaknesses  in  which  Ward  and  her  mother 
took  pride  and  joy.  Her  dominant  emotion  was  in- 
dignation, which,  in  conversation,  focused  to  a  desire 
to  appear  in  a  spotlight  of  infallibility. 

"Mother,"  she  burst  out.  "I  simply  can't  go  back 
to  school  this  fall." 

"Why  Dizzy,  what  do  you  mean?"  Mrs.  Harris 
asked. 

"I  mean  that  it's  an  insult  to  my  intelligence  to  keep 
me  in  that  stupid  school  any  longer.  Why  the  teach- 
ers are  all  fossils  and  old  fogies.  There  is  only  one 
teacher  there  that  knows  more  than  I  do,  and  I've  had 
all  the  courses  he  gives.  And  I  know  a  boy  that  got 
into  the  University  of  Illinois  last  year  by  passing  the 
examinations,  and  you  only  have  to  have  fifteen  cred- 
its to  get  in,  and  I  have  thir — " 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  IS 

"Illinois  is  just  one  party  after  another,  they  say," 
said  Ward.  "Five  men  to  every  girl." 

"I  know  I  wouldn't  like  it,"  said  Dizzy  impatiently, 
"but  I've  got  to  get  through  college  some  way,  and 
the  quickest  possible  way  is  the  one  I  want  to  take." 

"And  go  away  from  home  to  a  co-educational  school 
when  you  are  only  sixteen  years  old?"  said  Mrs.  Har- 
ris, attenuating  her  tones  with  the  right  degree  of  hor- 
ror. "When  I  was  your  age  I  often  thought  I  knew 
more  than  my  elders,  but  by  the  time  you  are  as  old 
as  I—" 

"Oh,  mother,"  said  Dizzy,  brutally,  "don't  pull  that 
old  stuff,  for  heaven's  sake!  I  know  when  my  intel- 
lectual capacity  is  greater  than  the  person  I  am  talk- 
Ing  with.  I  know  when  I'm  face  to  face  with  a  person 
that  is  better  educated  than  I  am.  Only  one  member 
of  the  teaching  force  is  better  educated  than  I.  The 
rest  are  the  usual  muddle-headed,  half  educated  mem- 
bers of  the  teaching  profession  that  you  find  polluting 
the  mind  of  the  young  American  in  all  our  institutions. 
I  won't  stand  it.  I  won't  be  insulted  by  sitting  down 
in  a  class  and  going  to  school  to  my  intellectual  infer- 
iors. I  won't.  So  you  can  just  make  up  your  mind 
to  that,  mother.  I  thought  I'd  better  tell  you  as  I  am 
going  to  begin  studying  for  the  college  entrance  exami- 
nations this  fall." 

"My  dear  child,  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort," 
said  Mrs.  Harris,  but  she  was  drowned  out  by  Sari, 
who  said  hotly  to  Dizzie: 

"Say,  what's  the  idea  of  reading  yourself  cock- 
eyed? You're  a  disgusting  shark.  Everybody  at 
school  said  so.  You  burst  facts  all  the  time.  I  should 
think  you'd  pop  with  all  that  mess  of  junk  you've 
learned." 


16 

"Sari,  really,  your  talk  is  hardly  fit  for  a  gentle- 
woman's table." 

Sari  launched  her  bomb: 

"I'm  against  a  college  education  for  women,  any- 
way, and  I  don't  intend  to  go  at  all." 

"Why  Sari,"  gasped  Mrs.  Harris,  alarmed  by  this 
sentiment  more  than  by  Dizzie's  vehemence.  "Why, 
what  nonsense.  How  old-fashioned.  You  girls  are 
always  railing  at  me  for  being  old-fashioned,  yet  I 
have  always  stood  for  things  like  the  emancipation  of 
women  and  college  education  for  women,  and — " 

She  rambled  into  a  discourse  that  was  very  near 
tears  and  which  was  taken  no  notice  of  by  the  girls, 
each  of  whom  dropped  into  her  own  thoughts  imme- 
diately on  the  beginning  of  it.  When  she  had  argued 
herself  to  a  climax,  made  her  point  triumphantly,  con- 
founding all  of  the  arguments  of  the  girls,  she  wan- 
dered on  into  a  discussion  of  the  evening's  entertain- 
ment. 

"Do  you  know  that  Mrs.  Partridge  warned  mother 
not  to  let  some  young  man  named  Wicker  come  near 
us?"  Anita  interrupted.  "He  is  thought  to  have  de- 
signs on  Ward." 

"Well,  you  can't  laugh  that  off,"  said  Sari,  using 
one  of  her  meaningless  phrases. 

'Dizzy,  conveying  short-cake  to  her  mouth  stopped, 
convulsed.  "No!" 

"Well,  really  girls,  I  fail  to  see  the  point  of  this. 
Mrs.  Partridge  was  kind  enough  to  warn  me  not  to 
let  you  become  entangled  with  a  young  man  whose  rep- 
utation is  extremely  unsavory.  I  hope  that  you  will 
pay  attention  to  it." 

She  subsided.  The  girls  went  on  talking  and  gig- 
gling over  their  coffee.  Without  the  quiet  gentle  lake 
murmured  and  laughed  and  seemed  to  snuggle  closer 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  17 

to  the  shore;  the  moon,  lemon  colored  and  imperfectly 
oval,  waited  high  above  the  old  maple  tree  on  the  sand 
for  the  meeting  of  boys  and  girls  in  her  little  ring  of 
moonshine. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE  white-clad  feet  of  the-  three  boys,  Howard 
Blackton,  Roderick  Preston  and  Bill  Wicker,  printed 
blurred  tracks  in  the  smooth,  soft  sand,  still  warm  from 
the  sun  that  had  baked  it  all  day.  They  carried  sticks, 
dragged  logs  and  inexpertly  built  a  beach  fire.  Away 
to  the  south  along  the  water's  edge  the  steel  mills 
growled,  exclaimed  sonorously  and  vomited  orange-red 
and  luminous  slag.  Lake  and  sky  reflected  countless 
gradations  of  fire  color  as  if  the  sleepy  sun  on  its  way 
to  bed  had  been  jerked  for  an  instant  into  splendid 
contrast  with  the  midnight  blue  velvet  sky.  A  thou- 
sand shades  merged  softly  into  one — a  single  glow  that 
slowly  faded.  And  the  stars  once  more  seemed  bril- 
liant like  a  million  candles  that  had  just  been  lit. 

Roderick  Preston  was  a  sketch  in  pen  and  ink  done 
by  Mr.  James  Montgomery  Flagg;  a  drawing  of  a 
heroic  character  in  American  fiction.  Handsome,  cour- 
teous, with  a  natural  grand  pose  enveloping  him  like  a 
huge  motor  coat,  his  amiable  and  obvious  excellencies 
dominated  the  other  two.  Mr.  Bill  Wicker  of  the  un- 
savory reputation  was  small,  dapper,  with  cinnamon 
brown  eyes,  and  curly  hair.  A  simplicity  of  manner 
verging  on  mild  idiocy  hid  the  wickedness  with  which 
he  had  been  credited  that  afternoon. 

To  the  party  came  Mrs.  Field,  her  daughter  Mary 
and  son  Frank.  Mary's  statuesque  and  heavy  loveli- 
ness was  caricatured  in  her  mother,  who  looked  as  if 
she  had  been  created  in  Mary's  image  and  chucked 

18 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  19 

under  the  chin  by  a  rakish  god  while  the  clay  was 
still  wet.  Frank  was  called  Frankie,  and  was  noted 
locally  for  an  indescribable  walk;  as  if  Frankie  were 
upheld  by  invisible  strings  attached  to  the  seat  of  his 
trousers,  manipulated  like  a  puppet  by  an  unseen  hand 
in  the  air;  that  he  only  obeyed  the  laws  of  gravitation 
by  the  greatest  physical  exertion;  he  looked  as  if  he 
were  always  on  the  point  of  floating  off  into  the  heav- 
ens— hips  first. 

Mrs.  Harris,  Mrs.  Field  and  Mrs.  Partridge  sat 
apart  from  the  rest  of  the  group  around  the  fire.  They 
were  not  themselves  for  the  time,  but  creatures  doing 
a  social  stunt.  Mrs.  Field  was  doing  an  act  called, 
"The  Mother  of  a  Beauty";  Mrs.  Partridge,  "Those 
brutal  men  shall  not  molest  my  darling,"  and  Mrs. 
Harris  was  saying, 

"I  live  with  my  children  as  if  each  were  the  heroine 
of  a  story.  I  wonder  what  will  happen  next  in  that 
wonderful  way  which  makes  life  so  abundantly  worth 
living.  They  have  all  been  to  me  very  sweet,  deli- 
ciously  human  little  stories,  continuing  in  daily  instal- 
ments before  my  very  eyes.  I  smile  and  weep  with 
them—" 

Lap,  lap,  lap,  said  the  water  to  the  shore. 

II 

Ward  was  the  center  of  the  younger  group.  Through 
her  good-nature  Helene  Patridge  and  Mary  Field  were 
drawn  into  the  chatter.  Ward  was  an  adept  in  the 
graceful  and  romantic  art  of  allurement,  which  more 
powerfully  than  any  other  touches  in  youth  the  sense 
of  mystery. 

And  for  her  Roderick  Preston  conjured  his  pleasant 
bag  of  tricks  like  colored  missiles  kept  afloat.  He 


20  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

talked  well;  he  had  a  manner;  a  way;  an  ardor  in  his 
hopeful  pursuit.  At  times  he  was  like  that  aristocratic 
and  offish  dog,  the  collie.  He  hung  on  Ward's  lightest 
word.  His  eyes  followed  her.  If  she  smiled  his  tall 
lithe  body  shook  with  delight  as  if  in  the  absence  of  a 
tail  he  was  doing  the  best  he  could.  If  she  frowned 
he  shrunk  and  seemed  to  regret  an  inability  to  put  a 
tail  between  his  legs.  If  any  other  male  spoke  to  her 
he  seemed  ready  to  jump  at  his  throat.  He  was  not 
only  handsome  and  clean  looking  and  young,  but  he 
seemed  to  set  Ward  off  and  she  seemed  to  set  him  off, 
as  if  an  abstract  idea  of  beauty  would  inevitably  make 
them  realize  the  necessity  of  each  for  the  other. 

Mr.  Wicker  hung  about,  quite  unable  to  get  his 
usual  stock  conversation  in  with  Ward.  This  conver- 
sation was  known  among  his  friends  as  Mr.  Wicker's 
line,  and  the  "way  he  worked."  He  turned  with  it  at 
last  to  Sari,  who  was  being  besieged  by  the  atten- 
tions of  Frankie  Field. 

"That's  a  wonderful  color  you're  wearing,"  said 
Wicker,  "somehow  it  suits  you." 

"Oh  do  you  think  so,"  said  Sari  delighted  by  his 
emotional  tone,  and  playing  up  to  it  without  hesita- 
tion. "Most  people  haven't  the  sense  to  appreciate 
color — or  me — " 


III 


Nita  and  Howard  Blackton  sat  together. 

They  very  soon  discovered  that  their  ideas  coin- 
cided in  a  great  many  ways.  They  found,  almost  at 
once,  that  they  both  received  stimulation  from  the 
editorials  of  Dr.  Frank  Crane;  both  thought  that  O. 
Henry  was  the  greatest  short  story  writer  that  ever 
lived;  that  it  was  immoral  to  read  Guy  de  Maupas- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  21 

sant;  that  there  was  too  much  sex  stuff  written;  that 
all  literature  that  had  sex  in  it  was  trashy;  that  any 
young  person  who  determined  to  make  a  success  early 
in  life  was  bound  to  win  out  if  he  worked  hard  and 
stuck  to  his  business;  that  a  truly  American  type  was 
the  most  admirable;  that  real  honest  to  goodness  men 
from  the  west  never  dressed  for  dinner  when  they 
came  east,  but  appeared  at  banquets  among  din- 
ner coated  beings  in  tweed  suits  with  large  gold 
watch  chains  strung  across  them;  that  they  were  re- 
spected far  more  than  underlings  who  donned  tuxedoes 
and  pretended  to  be  accustomed  to  them. 

Howard  said,  "I've  an  uncle  in  St.  Paul.  He's  a 
pretty  big  fellow  up  there  with  the  Eau  Claire  and 
Mankato  railroad.  When  he  goes  down  to  New  York 
he  meets  all  the  biggest  men  in  the  country.  But  he 
never  even  takes  evening  clothes  with  him.  I'll  tell 
you  a  really  big  man  can  get  away  with  that  sort  of 
thing—" 

"It's  because  he's  big  he  can  do  it,"  said  Anita. 

"Yeh.  That's  it.  Now  you  take  some  of  these  lit- 
tle fellows,  they  don't  dare  do  a  thing  like  that.  But 
if  a  man  has  lots  of  money  and  is  known  as  a  big  man, 
why  people  don't  care  what  he  does." 

"That's  what  is  so  wonderful  about  America.  It's 
so  different  from  other  countries.  Now  that  could 
never  happen  in  England." 

They  were  both  silent,  possibly  thinking  sadly  of 
England's  horrible  caste  system. 

"That's  what  I  want  to  be,"  said  Howard  softly. 
"So  big  that  I  can  do  what  I  darn  please." 

"What  would  you  do?" 

"You  mean  if  I  had  money?" 

"No,  if  you  were  a  really  big  man — arrived,  I 
mean." 


22  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Golf,  and  tennis,  and  swim  a  lot 
and  ride.  I  like  to  ride,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Nita,  who  didn't  care  to  admit  that  she 
had  never  been  on  a  horse. 

"I  like  big  people,"  went  on  Howard.  "Now  my 
pal  at  college  is  sure  to  be  the  right  sort.  His  father 
has  an  estate  on  the  Riviera  right  next  to  the  former 
governor  of  New  York.  Week  ends,  he  used  to  leave 
college  and  play  with  America's  upper  crust,  and  back 
at  school  for  five  days  he  was  perfectly  simple, 
friendly  with  every  one,  and  never  mentioned  the  con- 
trast of  the  other  side  of  his  life." 

Nita,  too,  thought  this  was  very  wonderful  of  the 
young  man. 

In  the  minds  of  both  of  them  romance  reached  its 
apex  in  these  two  incidents.  The  prince  disguised  as 
the  pauper,  hobnobbing  with  the  pauper.  It  was 
what  they  called  democracy — romantic  democracy. 

IV 

Helene  Partridge  felt  Wicker's  gaze  upon  her,  pene- 
trating yet  caressing.  She  had  been  warned  against 
him.  There  was  something  attractive  in  his  browned 
face  with  the  hair  curling  back  from  the  forehead. 

"That  orange  colored  sweater  just  suits  you,"  he 
said  in  an  undertone.  "You  ought  always  to  wear 
that  shade.  In  the  firelight — "  his  voice  drifted  off, 
leaving  her  to  infer  the  sentiment  about  the  firelight. 
He  threw  himself  forward  and  leaned  upon  his  elbow 
in  the  sand  to  be  near  her. 

Helene  was  not  beautiful  but  she  could  be  interest- 
ing. She  gave  herself  the  airs  of  the  legendary, 
sought-after  beauty  who  must  continually  rebuff  the 
encroaching  male  with  light  sarcasm  and  badinage  of 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  23 

an  uncomplimentary  nature.  She  knew  men  thor- 
oughly— in  books — but  she  was  so  ignorant  of  them 
in  real  life  that  an  ordinary,  chance  remark  from  one 
of  them  was  often  interpreted  by  her  and  resented  as 
unspeakable  lewdness.  Men  were  creatures  to  whom 
the  mysteries  of  life  were  all  bare;  experienced  and 
ever  watchful,  to  entrap  foolish  young  girls.  This  at- 
titude of  mind  made  her  ill  at  ease  with  young  men 
without  interfering  with  her  ambition  to  be  attractive 
to  them. 

"Yes,"  pursued  Wicker,  his  eyes  on  the  fire.  "That 
color  just  suits  your  type.  You're  a  different  sort  of 
type.  You  know  you  are." 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Helene. 

Wicker  gave  her  a  glance.  "You  know  what  I 
mean,"  he  told  her.  She  didn't,  but  she  was  afraid 
to  seem  to  disappoint  his  expectations  of  her. 

"No,  I  am  sort  of  different,"  she  admitted,  without 
humor.  "People  expect  me  to  conform  to  their  stand- 
ards. I  can't — "  She  rambled  on  while  Wicker  won- 
dered if  he  had  really  made  an  impression  on  her. 
By  the  time  an  opening  came  for  his  remark  about  his 
being  a  lonesome  sort  of  a  chap,  he  was  sure  of  her 
interest.  She  was  touched,  thinking  of  her  mother's 
misjudgment  of  him,  wondering  if  he  would  ask  to 
call. 


Sari  left  the  party  and  strolled  along  the  lake  in  the 
darkness.  On  the  sands  by  herself  she  began  to 
dance,  flinging  herself  about,  flirting  with  the  quiet 
waters,  abandoning  herself  furiously  to  the  night. 
Suddenly  she  found  herself  in  a  man's  arms. 

"Oh,  Jasper,  forgive  me.    I  didn't  mean  it  that  night 


24  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

on  the  launch.  It  was  the  moonlight!  I  never 
dreamed  you  would  take  it  like  this!" 

Bill  Wicker  dropped  his  arms.  "I'm  not  Jasper," 
he  said,  unimaginatively. 

Sari  stiffened.  "Not  Jasper?  .  .  .  Really,  War- 
ren, this  is  too  much.  I've  forgiven  a  lot  in  you  but 
this  is  the  last  straw — to  come  upon  me  in  the  dark- 
ness, when  I  said  our  little  affair  was  over.  I  meant 
it,  and—" 

The  dull  wit  of  Wicker  was  still  dormant.  He  said, 
frigidly,  "You  are  mistaken  again." 

Sari,  intoxicated  with  the  success  of  her  role,  came 
forward  and  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders.  "Dear- 
est," she  murmured,  "Dearest  Edwin — " 

But  before  Bill  could  accept  the  role  of  Edwin,  she 
was  off,  running  back  to  the  fire,  flushed  and  elated. 
Wicker,  at  least,  would  fancy  her  a  worse  vamp  than 
Ward. 

VI 

On  the  way  to  the  house  Wicker  found  himself  be- 
side Mary  Field.  "Yellow  is  just  your  color,"  he  said 
in  a  low  tone.  "How  well  you  know  what  to  wear.  I 
should  like  to  see  you  in  yellow  all  the  time." 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Mary,  conventionally.  She 
always  played  to  keep  young  men  in  their  proper  place. 
Like  Helene,  she  was  forever  on  the  lookout  for  them 
to  do  something  improper,  but  lacked  Helene's  imag- 
ination of  the  horrors  they  might  perpetrate. 

"The  sight  of  you  by  the  fire  tonight  has  meant  a 
lot  to  me,"  went  on  Wicker.  "I'm  a  lonesome  sort  of 
a  chap,  and  beauty  means — well,  it  means — " 

"I  know  what  it  means  to  be  alone  in  a  strange 
town,"  said  Mary,  who  had  no  notion  at  all,  as  she 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  25 

had  seldom  been  away  from  home  over  night  without 
some  member  of  the  family.  The  conversation  drib- 
bled along 

VII 

"Let's  run  along  by  the  lake  before  we  go  up  to 
the  house,"  said  Sari  to  Frankie  Field. 

They  raced  like  the  children  they  were,  beside  the 
water. 

"Say,  Sari,  I  want  to  ask  you  something,"  said 
Frankie  when  they  paused  for  breath. 

"Ask  away." 

"Do  you  believe  that — Well,  do  you  think?"  he 
paused  and  gulped.  "What  do  you  believe — " 

"Yes,"  encouraged  Sari,  poised  on  the  point  of  sar- 
casm, but  refraining  through  an  instinct  that  sym- 
pathy would  be  more  flattering  ultimately. 

"Sari,  do  you  believe  that  if  young  people  are  in 
love  when  they  can't — well,  you  know — get  married 
for  years,  that  a  man  ought  to — well — propose — or 
that  they  ought  to  go  on  just  being  friends?" 

"I  think  they  ought  to  be  engaged  if  they  are  really 
in  love,"  she  said  phrasing  in  her  mind  the  form  of 
her  rejection  of  him. 

"Well,  I  don't,"  said  Frankie.  "I  think  a  man  that 
really  loved  a  girl  would  wait  until  he  was  in  a  posi- 
tion to  support  a  wife  before  he  asked  her." 

In  keen  disappointment  Sari  turned  back  to  the 
house. 

"It's  getting  pretty  late.  I  think  we'd  better  go 
home." 


CHAPTER  IV 

I 

AMONG  the  intricacies  of  the  sex  mystery  there  is 
perhaps  no  more  interesting  question  to  the  young 
woman  than  the  one:  Why  do  some  women  inspire  love 
in  man  after  man,  while  others  are  unable  to  evoke 
the  phenomenon  in  a  single  male?  Each  one 
of  the  four  young  Harris  sisters  had  her  private  an- 
swer which  she  kept  more  or  less  to  herself.  With 
the  certainty  of  youth,  each  knew  that  the  solution 
was  easy.  Mysticism,  thought  Nita.  Morals,  thought 
Ward.  Chemistry,  thought  Dizzy.  Wiles,  tricks,  an 
art  that  anybody  can  learn,  thought  Sari. 

After  a  party  it  was  the  amiable  custom  of  these 
four  to  foregather  in  nightgowns  to  discuss  the  short- 
comings of  the  individuals  with  whom  they  had  been; 
and  also  sagely  to  give  utterance  to  whatever  philos- 
ophy came  into  their  heads  as  they  talked. 

They  sat  crosslegged  on  the  bed  like  four  little  girls 
on  a  pavement  playing  jacks. 

"The  Wicker  complex!"  said  Sari 

They  laughed.  The  figure  of  Wicker  was  to  all  of 
them  ridiculous.  Another  comically  misshapen  char- 
acter in  which  they  could  rejoice. 

"The  oldest  line  I've  ever  heard  anyone  pull,"  went 
on  Sari.  "In  three  parts — number  one,  that  color 
thrills  me  to  death,  number  two,  you  seem  so  different, 
you  wonderful  little  girl — " 

"He  certainly  has  a  soft  spot,"  said  Nita.  Nita  had 
classified  all  human  beings  under  two  heads:  those 

26 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  27 

with,  and  those  without  soft  spots.  She  observed  this 
soft  spot  in  all  men  art  students,  in  girls  who  didn't 
make  clubs  at  college,  in  most  girls  who  confided  their 
love  affairs  to  her,  in  unsuccessful  people.  Helene 
Partridge's  soft  spot  was  her  delusion  that  men  were 
planning  to  commit  some  horrible  crime  against  her 
person.  Mary  Field's  was  her  stupidity.  Mrs.  Part- 
ridge's soft  spot  was  her  belief  in  the  Don  Juan  capa- 
bilities of  such  men  as  Wicker.  But  these  faults 
alone  were  not  soft  spots  so  much  as  they  were  the 
visible  effects  of  the  soft  spots.  Most  successful,  well 
balanced,  well  dressed  people,  were  in  the  other  class. 
Howard  Blackton  and  Roderick  Preston  did  not  have 
soft  spots.  They  were  personable,  agreeable  young 
men,  bound  straight  for  success,  with  no  ideas  in  their 
heads  that  had  not  been  put  there  in  academies  of 
learning.  They  were  distinctly  worth  while,  distinctly 
eligible.  "Real  men."  Rod  for  Ward  and  Howard 
for  her. 

"Roderick  Preston  seemed  like  a  nice  chap,  I  didn't 
talk  to  him  much  though,"  she  said. 

"He  is,"  said  Ward.  "He's  a  peach.  I  felt  sort  of 
sorry  for  him,  though.  He  was  telling  me  about  the 
hard  time  he  had  at  boarding  school.  Nobody  under- 
stood him,  he's  so  sensitive — " 

"She's  sorry  for  the  Preston  person!  Curses! 
Curses!  Hasn't  he  got  no  matrimonial  prospects?" 
asked  Sari. 

Dizzy,  who  was  not  interested  in  diagnosing  reac- 
tions to  boys,  said  suddenly,  "Sometimes  I  think 
mother  is  demented.  About  religion,  I  mean.  Com- 
ing up  to  the  house  from  the  beach  she  and  Mrs. 
Partridge  talked  about  some  spiritual  quality  that 
most  everybody  but  Ward  lacks,  as  far  as  I  could 
gather.  Ward's  spiritual  as  the  dickens,  Mrs.  Par- 


28  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

tridge  says.  Mother  ate  it  up.  She  simply  loved  it. 
And  then  Mrs.  Partridge  shook  her  head  and  sighed 
and  said  that  Ward  would  have  to  suffer  for  it.  Mother 
sighed  and  said  she  feared  so,  too." 

"Nut-tay!"  Sari's  slangy  and  meaningless  com- 
ments emphasized  her  pleasant  agreements  and  dis- 
agreements, both  quite  without  thought.  She  was 
unoccupied  with  problems. 

Nita  opened  her  eyes  wide.  She  said:  "I've  felt 
that  about  Ward  in  a  dim  sort  of  way.  She's  got  a 
genius  at  being  herself,  or  something.  It's  all  vague 
in  my  mind.  She  has  no  definite  religion,  and  yet, 
she's  the  religious  type.  I  can  sort  of  imagine  her  in 
a  cloister — " 

Sari  tumbled  backward  and  stifled  her  shrieks  of 
laughter  in  the  pillows.  "Cloister,  my  eye.  Ward  in 
a  cock-eyed  cloister!" 

"The  man-hunting  type,  you  mean,"  said  Dizzy. 

"I  don't  hunt  men,"  said  Ward,  indignantly. 

"Oh,  yes,"  Dizzy  went  on,  choking  with  laughter, 
brought  on  by  Sari's  appreciation.  "Another  thing 
that  mother  said  was  that  this  spiritual  quality  was 
what  made  Ward  so  popular  with  men." 

"That's  awfully  interesting,"  said  Nita,  inspired. 
The  idea  was  to  her  like  one  of  those  enormous  mallets 
which  huge  and  knotty-jointed  men  raise  in  the  air 
and  pound  down  on  a  machine  designed  for  the  pur- 
pose of  registering  their  physical  strength.  Down, 
pounded  the  idea,  up,  shot  the  pointing  finger — up 
and  up,  past  Bruce  Barton,  past  Dr.  Frank  Crane, 
past  Orison  Swett  Madson,  up  almost  to  Mrs.  Eddy. 
"I've  often  thought  about  that  myself.  What  is  it 
about  Ward  that  makes  men  like  her?  That's  it. 
Dizzy,  you  can  talk  all  you  want  about  Ward's  vampi- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  29 

ness.  It's  the  natural  result  of  a  child  of  your  age 
reading  Man  and  Superman,  I  suppose — " 

"Don't  tell  me,"  said  Dizzy,  who  was  too  enter- 
tained to  take  offense.  "She's  Theda  Bara,  upside 
down  and  inside  out.  She  knows  it,  too.  She  knows 
all  about  men.  She  has  known  from  the  cradle.  She 
can  slant  her  eyes,  or  cast  them  down,  just  so — to  suit 
any  type,  and  she  does  it  with  ease  and  without  giving 
any  more  thought  to  it  than  I  do  to  chewing  prunes. 
If  she  sees  a  fat  man  with  a  glass  eye,  she  subcon- 
sciously takes  out  the  wile  labeled,  'For  fat  men  with 
glass  eyes,'  and  flips  it  at  him  without  even  thinking 
about  it—" 

"That's  just  it.  She  does  it  unconsciously  and  be- 
cause she  was  born  that  way;  that's  just  the  question. 
Why  weren't  we  all  born  that  way?  I  couldn't  be  a 
vamp  if  I  tried."  This  from  Nita. 

"I  could,"  declared  Dizzy.  "Some  day  when  I 
have  time  I'll  do  it  just  to  show  you.  You  bring  on  a 
couple  of  men  and  I'll  twist  up  my  hair  and  make  them 
fall  with  a  couple  of  the  oldest  tricks  in  the  basket — " 

"It's  easy,"  interrupted  Sari.    "I've  done  it."    T 

"Oh,  well,  pooh!"  said  Nita.  "You  silly  kids!  If 
you  call  having  boys  like  you,  or  making  an  occasional 
man  take  to  you — if  you  call  that  vamping!  I  mean 
having  them  fall  in  wholesale  droves,  like  Ward  did 
at  college.  Every  girl  thinks  she  could  be  a  vamp  if 
she  wanted  to,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  are  very 
few  girls  that  are  able  to  rope  in  two  or  three,  much 
less  a  herd.  Most  girls  strike  attitudes,  like  Helene 
Partridge,  and  pretend  they  are  too  sweet  and  pure  to 
attract  a  man.  Ward  is  different.  It's  something  in- 
side of  her.  I  know  it  is." 

She  was  thinking,  "It  is  the  most  desirable  thing  in 
the  world  to  be  beautiful  and  fascinating — to  be  loved 


30  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

and  admired  for  personal  qualities.    If  it  comes  from 
within,  I  can  get  it.    Christian  Science.    Why  not?" 

II 

This,  too,  was  the  essence  of  Ward's  ambition,  but 
Ward  was  quite  unable  to  accept  the  gift  she  had  of 
stirring  love  and  admiration.  Instead  she  was  har- 
assed by  the  thought  that  she  must  have  an  aim;  she 
must  be  unselfish,  useful,  a  model  for  the  younger 
sisters — otherwise  this  prince  of  her  mother's  tale 
would  ride  on  to  make  some  more  virtuous  maiden 
his  lawful  princess.  This  fear  had  made  her  believe 
that  what  she  desired  to  arouse  passion  for  was  a  set 
of  abstract  virtues,  all  of  which  have  never  been  as- 
sembled in  one  person.  What  she  really  wanted  was 
to  stir  the  emotion  of  adoration  for  herself  in  every- 
body, and  particularly,  in  a  future  mate — she  wanted 
to  stir  it  anyhow,  anyway,  only  to  stir  it.  And  she 
had  been  convinced  by  the  propaganda  of  the  love 
legend,  that  nobility  of  character  would  do  the  job. 
Ergo,  she  desired  to  be  noble. 

Thus,  she  deceived  herself,  and  deceiving  herself, 
was  unhappy,  for  she  was  essentially  honest  and  would 
have  admitted,  quite  humbly,  any  shortcomings  in  her- 
self that  she  could  have  been  made  to  see.  The  faults 
of  which  she  was  conscious  she  earnestly  strove  to 
overcome.  She  demanded  perfection  in  herself  that 
she  might  be  fit  for  her  wonderful  husband. 

At  the  age  of  thirteen,  she  had  found  her  ideal  in 
the  "Little  Colonel"  books,  a  series  of  stories  for  girls 
in  which  a  young  southern  miss  suffers  conscientious 
scruples  about  her  admirers  through  ten  volumes.  All 
her  love  problems  are  met  with  a  quotation  from  a 
Victorian  poet,  given  in  an  idealized  darky  dialect. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  31 

Ward,  too,  had  found  quotations  to  fit  her  problems. 
As  she  grew  older  she  saw  herself  in  every  magazine 
heroine,  especially  those  by  writers  who  habitually 
declare  in  full  page  advertisements  that  they  desire  to 
fill  their  readers  with  the  sense  that  the  world  is  bet- 
ter than  it  is;  that  human  nature  is  after  all,  over- 
flowing with  goodness;  that  the  difficulties  of  life  can 
all  be  met  thus:  (1)  with  sunshine  in  the  heart,  (2) 
with  a  fitting  quotation  on  the  lips. 

Ward,  then,  was  an  almost  perfect  example  of  what 
is  called  a  high-minded  girl.  She  was  not,  like  Nita, 
an  egotist  with  second-rate  ideals  who  screened  her 
aims  behind  current  notions  of  propriety.  Neither  was 
she  like  Sari,  careless  of  right  and  wrong.  Nor  did 
she  have  the  skeptical  cock-surety  of  Dizzy,  who 
rejected  the  sentiments  that  held  Ward  with  such 
rainbow  bands. 


CHAPTER  Y 
I 

MORNING. 

Rose  Mrs.  Harris  freighted,  as  always,  with  the 
importance  of  being  a  mother,  subtly  conveying  in 
walk,  manner,  tone,  even  in  her  first  meeting  with 
her  own  eyes  in  the  mirror  her  conviction  that  the 
early  bird  catches  the  worm. 

Nita  got  up.  Ward  got  up.  The  woman  Olive 
dragged  herself  out  of  bed  and  down  into  the  kitchen 
where  she  hindered  Ward  in  getting  breakfast.  It 
was  part  of  Ward's  conception  of  herself  to  take  work 
from  her  mother's  shoulders.  Olive,  nearly  incapaci- 
tated by  feeble-mindedness,  was  a  mere  symbol  of  a 
housemaid. 

Sari  appeared,  unexpectedly,  while  they  were  eat- 
ing breakfast.  Usually  she  rose  later  than  the  rest 
of  the  family.  "Might  as  well  ride  down  with  you 
Nita,"  she  said  casually.  "Got  to  shop  before  my  les- 
son." 

When  they  had  hurried  off  with  the  brisk  import- 
ance of  an  early  morning  departure,  Dizzy  went  up  to 
the  room  she  shared  with  Sari,  closed  the  door  care- 
fully and  sat  down  to  her  desk  to  study. 

College  in  the  fall!  College!  It  was  a  thrilling 
possibility.  She  began  tracing  with  a  pencil  on  a  sheet 
of  paper  on  which  she  had  written: 

32 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  33 

Required  Covered 

4  years  English  3 

2  years  history  2 

1  and  Y-2.  year  French 

2  years  science  2 
2l/2  years  mathematics  2 

3  years  Latin  3 

15  credits  required  12 

for  college  entrance. 

credits 
covered 
Exams 
4th  year  English 

l]/2  years  French 

y2  year  solid  geometry 

3  Examinations. 

She  was  not  sure  that  the  requirements  were  cor- 
rect. She  had  written  to  the  University  of  Illinois  to 
find  out  if  they  would  accept  her.  She  sat  looking 
over  the  requirements  and  thinking  about  them.  She 
was  suspicious  of  the  fourth-year  English  course.  It 
was  too  easy.  Perhaps  they  wouldn't  accept  an  exam- 
ination for  it.  She  might  arrange  to  take  a  short  sum- 
mer course.  She  was  confident  that  she  could  master 
solid  geometry.  Plane  had  been  easy  enough.  And 
as  for  French,  she  could  read  it  quite  easily.  She  had 
no  fear  of  failing  in  that  after  a  little  study  of  the 
grammar.  Fortunately  she  had  the  required  amount 
of  science. 

Dizzy  had  an  extraordinarily  quick  and  adaptable 
mind,  an  immense  capacity  for  work,  and  like  her 
sisters,  a  pulling,  drawing  ambition.  As  naively  sure 
that  she  could  acquire  all  knowledge,  as  Ward  was 
that  the  prince  was  on  the  way,  Dizzy  had  made  up 


34  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

her  mind  to  finish  college  knowing  everything  by  the 
time  she  was  twenty.  Then  she  would  begin  to  write 
books. 

She  wished  that  her  mother  could  be  brought  to  see 
how  important  it  was.  If  only  she  could  have  a  tutor. 
Mother  was  so  dense  about  things  like  that.  Now,  if 
only  father  had  been  alive — he  would  have  been  so 
proud  to  have  her  trying  to  get  into  college  before  her 
class.  He  would  have  tutored  her  himself.  He  would 
have  found  out  all  about  it  for  her  and  might  even 
have  been  able  to  get  her  into  the  University  of  Chi- 
cago. Father  had  always  understood  her  so  well. 
No  one  would  ever  know  how  much  she  had  lost  in 
losing  him  so  early  in  life.  If  she  had  only  been  Anita 
and  could  have  known  him  until  she  was  eighteen. 
None  of  the  rest  of  the  family  appreciated  him  or 
loved  him  as  she  did. 

II 

Sari  and  Nita  sat  on  the  suburban  train  staring 
gravely  at  nothing.  They  were  jolted  like  moulds  of 
jelly  carried  on  a  tray  by  a  hurrying  waiter.  Through 
the  dingy  train  window  the  dazzling  silver  cloth  of  the 
lake  met  the  baby  blue  satin  sky.  In  their  mouths 
was  the  faintly  nauseating  taste  of  hot,  unstirred  in- 
door air,  smelling  of  oil,  steam  and  loathsome  chemicals 
meant  to  purify  it.  The  unbearable  roar  of  wheels 
stifled  thought  like  the  beating  of  blood  in  the  ears 
during  a  high  fever. 

"The  dear  old  first  of  August!"  said  Sari. 

"What  about  it?" 

"Something  rather  good  is  going  to  happen.  By 
the  way,  Parkman,  Jones  Parkman  is  going  to  watch 
the  Carlotta  Wilson  dancers  at  the  studio  today. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  35 

Maybe  they'll  get  a  New  York  engagement  this  win- 
ter." 

"Wait  until  mother  finds  out  that  Carlotta  Wilson 
is  a  professional.  Just  wait.  Who  is  Jones  Park- 
man?" 

"Jones  Parkman?  The  cock-eyed  Jones  Parkman? 
Haven't  you  ever  heard  of  him?  Oh  well,  he's  not  so 
much.  He's  no  Ziegfeld — " 

Nita's  eyebrows  asked  superciliously,  "the  same  sort 
of  thing?"  She  said:  "I  hope  you  don't  think  you're 
going  to  be  one  of  the  Carlotta  Wilson  dancers.  Of 
course  she  promises  all  her  pupils  that  she'll  take 
them  in  to  her  company  if  they  are  good  enough.  That's 
the  catch.  It  takes  years  and  years  of  training  before 
you  are  good  enough,  and  in  the  meantime  you've 
given  up  and  married,  or  started  to  teach  school  or 
something.  She  just  trades  on  her  professional  posi- 
tion to  get  flappers  like  you  to  think  she'll  put  them 
on  the  stage." 

Sari  said  nothing,  but  smiled  mysteriously  to  her- 
self. She  was  already  training  with  the  Wilson  dan- 
cers. She  was  not  greatly  excited  by  the  advent  of 
Parkman.  For  the  present  the  Chicago  engagement — 
to  be  staged  at  one  of  the  more  pretentious  north  side 
hotels — was  enough  to  feed  her  secret  dreams. 


Ill 


She  left  Nita  at  Van  Buren  and  Michigan  streets, 
and  hurried  off  down  the  boulevard.  She  assumed  an 
important  expression.  Sari  had  studiously  molded 
her  whole  carriage  into  showing  a  pre-occupation  with 
large  inner  affairs,  an  aloofness,  a  blankness  that  was 
pregnant  with  meaning.  A  thrust  of  shoulders,  a  lift 


36  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

of  head,  a  wiping  away  of  vividness  from  the  face,  and 
the  thing  was  done.  Sari,  in  company  with  hundreds 
of  other  young  whippersnappers,  walked  haughtily 
down  the  avenue,  shrieking  their  consciousness  that 
they  were  being  stared  at  by  lounging  men  in  their 
carefully  assumed  expression  of  unconsciousness. 

Jones  Parkman  was  a  short  stocky  Scotchman,  just 
past  fifty,  one  of  those  wistful  sporting  souls  who  is 
always  on  the  point  of  bringing  out  something  more 
splendid  than  the  Follies,  but  who,  unhappily,  nearly 
always  misses  what  he  calls  his  big  chance.  He  had 
eyes  as  blue  as  the  lake  had  been  that  morning,  and 
with  some  of  the  same  inscrutability  as  the  water. 

As  the  Carlotta  Wilson  dancers  went  through  their 
numbers  for  him,  Sari  was  conscious  that  he  looked 
at  her  a  good  bit.  When  the  dance  was  finished,  and 
•while  they  still  stood  about  in  groups  in  their  dancing 
costumes,  Carlotta  Wilson  was  called  to  the  telephone. 
Sari  moved  off  by  herself  over  to  a  bar  and  took  hold 
of  it  with  some  hazy  idea  that  Jones  Parkman  might 
come  over  and  offer  to  make  her  a  star  at  once. 

He  approached  her. 

Behind  his  eyes  something  seemed  to  ebb  and  flow 
endlessly.  As  she  looked  at  him  his  gaze  seemed  to 
swell  and  envelope  her  with  the  sense  of  the  lake 
around  her,  then  to  shrink  until  his  eyes  were  two 
steel-blue  spurts  from  a  faucet. 

"You  dance  well,"  he  said. 

"Oh,"  said  Sari  quickly,  "I'm  no  dancer.  I'm  an 
actress  essentially.  I  regard  dancing  as  the  truest  way 
of  feeling  art.  When  I  have  dissolved  the  essence  in 
my  soul  I  shall  express  it  on  the  speaking  stage!" 

"My  God,  girl,"  said  Parkman,  who  was  approxi- 
mately Sari's  age  mentally.  "You're  interesting!" 
His  eye  pupils  shrunk  as  if  he  had  come  suddenly  into 
light. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  3<C 

He  said  no  more  as  Carlotta  Wilson  came  back,  but 
before  he  left  he  managed  to  command  Sari  to  meet 
him  for  luncheon  in  the  Congress  Hotel  at  one. 

Sari's  pulses  leaped  up.  Press  agent  stories  of 
actresses  made  over  night,  always  in  the  background 
of  her  mind,  came  forward  now,  and  combined  excit- 
ingly with  the  Lakeshore  Women's  Club  theory  that 
the  actress  leads  a  life  of  shame.  She  wondered  if 
she  dared  meet  him,  and  knew  that  she  would  in  the 
same  skeptical  thought  picture  that  she  saw  of  herself 
being  brutally  attacked. 

"He's  awfully  fatherly,  somehow,"  thought  Sari  as 
she  leaned  toward  the  mirror,  patting  the  powder  puff 
on  her  nose.  "Anyway  he  can't  do  anything  to  me  at 
luncheon." 


IV 


Across  the  table  from  him  she  answered  his  ques- 
tions at  random,  truthfully  or  imaginatively  as  she 
preferred. 

"How  old  are  you?" 

"Eighteen!" 

"Family  in  Chicago?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

"Tell  me  about  them." 

"I  must  support  my  mother  who  is  a  widow  and  my 
two  sisters " 

He  began  to  absorb  her  eyes  with  his  misty  blue 
ones. 

"What  sort  of  parts  would  you  like  to  do?" 

"I'd  like  to  do  Shaw!"  This  was  Sari's  conception 
of  the  sophisticated  intellectual  thing  to  say.  Jones 
Parkman  smiled  patronizingly,  saying  nothing.  With 
his  coffee  and  cigarettes  he  said, 


38  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I  could  give  you  a  chance  to  understudy  in  a  play 
I  am  putting  on  in  New  York.  I  might  even  get  you 
a  chance  to  play  it  in  a  road  company  later.  And  the 
year  after — well — Broadway,  perhaps,  who  knows! 
Yes,  I  think  in  two  years  I  could  have  you  on  Broad- 
way." 

Sari  choked.  It  was  unbelievable.  Was  she 
dreaming!  "Oh,"  she  said  with  her  first  genuine  sin- 
cerity, "you're  so  good  to  me.  How  can  I  ever  repay 
you." 

Jones  Parkman  smiled,  a  far-away  smile. 

"By  working  hard.  My  people  work  for  me  and  love 
me.  Then  after  a  while,  they  become  great  artists. 
This  is  the  only  reward  I  seek." 

He  pressed  her  hand.  She  pressed  his  warmly,  he 
was  so  fatherly.  And  yet,  she  was  not  deceived,  ex- 
cept on  the  top  layer  of  her  mind  that  wanted  to  be 
deceived.  He  looked  into  her  eyes,  smiling  tenderly. 

"So  she  likes  Shaw."  He  shook  his  head.  "Could 
that  soft,  curved  mouth  utter  those  sarcasms,  jibes  at 
humanity?"  He  thought  it  over,  and  decided  that 
Sari's  lips  could  never  be  the  medium  for  Mr.  Shaw, 
whose  lines,  it  chanced,  he  had  never  read.  "No,  no! 
Ah,  you  have  so  much  to  learn,  my  little  child,  my  lit- 
tle Sari,  so  much  to  learn!" 

"But  you  will  teach  me,"  said  Sari  deliberately 
allowing  herself  to  be  moved,  and  enjoying  it 
deliciously. 

He  re-clasped  the  hand  lying  under  his. 

"It's  possible  that  I  might  be  able  to  introduce  a 
dance  for  you  in  the  third  act.  Would  you  like  that?" 

"Oh,"  Sari  saw  herself  on  Broadway.  She  was 
really  grateful, — exhilarated.  "Oh!  you're  wonderful !" 

"Could  you  work  up  a  dance?"  His  voice  was  a 
little  thick. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  39 

! 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have  a  dance  I  wish  I  could  show  you. 
It  might  do?" 

"Where  could  we  go?    I  should  like  to  see  it." 

"Up  to  the  studio,  of  course." 

"Oh,  no." 

"Miss  Wilson  leaves  at  2:30,  if  I  phone  her,  she 
would  let  me  use  it  this  afternoon." 

"Well,  that  might  do.  Tell  you.  I've  some  busi- 
ness to  attend  to.  I'll  meet  you  up  there  at  three  if 
you  can  fix  it  with  Miss  Wilson.  I'd  rather  not  have 
her  know,  if  you  don't  mind,  as  I  am  making  different 
arrangements  with  her  for  the  present." 


At  three  he  found  Sari  in  the  studio  in  her  practice 
costume.  Followed  a  scene  to  draw  confirmatory  nods 
from  those  believers  in  the  love  legend  who  lay  stress 
on  its  hackneyed  by-products. 

Sari  adjusted  the  needle  on  a  record. 

"My  God,  but  you're  beautiful!" 

Far  back  in  Sari's  mind  satisfaction  registered.  A 
man  had  said  to  her  my-god-you-are-beautiful. 

When  she  had  danced  through  the  record,  Parkman 
drew  her  down  beside  him. 

"You're  tired!  Here!  Put  up  your  feet!"  He 
drew  a  second  chair  but  Sari  demurred.  "My  God, 
don't  you  feel  at  ease  with  me?" 

She  smiled  into  his  eyes. 

"You're  tired,  aren't  you.  You  know  you're  charm- 
ing." He  leaned  forward  to  put  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder.  "You're  going  to  work  hard  for  me.  And, 
and  I'm  going  to  make  you  the  greatest  actress  in  the 
world." 


40  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

He  was  as  much  the  dupe  of  melodrama  as  Ward, 
Mrs.  Harris  or  Mrs.  Partridge,  who  would  have  been 
filled  with  horror  if  they  had  known  of  the  situation. 
This  man's  strained  interest  in  her  was  novel,  interest- 
ing to  Sari.  A  sense  of  triumph  over  her  mother  filled 
her  mind  as  she  looked  at  the  legendary  enemy  of 
young  girls,  who  was  frowning  thoughtfully. 

"You  need  a  little  more  leg  work,  I  think." 

"Yes!  I  do  these  exercises  every  day!"  She  sprang 
to  her  feet,  ran  away  from  him  to  the  bar,  and  began 
going  through  a  few  motions.  He  followed  her  across 
the  room. 

"Sari,  dear,"  he  said  gently.  "You're  not  a  child. 
You  know  what  life  is?" 

Sari  considered.  Would  it  be  best  to  pretend  com- 
plete innocence? 

"Yes,"  she  admitted,  slowly. 

"Well,  dear  girl,  there  is  one  difficult  thing  about 
acting.  And  that  is  that  you  must  know  life  before 
you  can  interpret  it.  There  are  certain  things  you 
will  have  to  learn.  You  see  you're  just  a  child  now, 
wholly  unawakened.  You  remember  what  you  said 
about  feeling  through  dancing?  Well,  there  is  a 
much  greater  way  of  feeling  art,  and  that  is  through 
love." 

"Yes,"  said  Sari,  making  a  jump,  playing  the  child 
and  hippety-hopping  across  the  room  to  the  victrola. 

She  put  on  a  record,  presumably  to  amuse  him,  and 
left  the  room  calling  that  she  would  be  back  in  a  mo- 
ment. She  was  out  of  the  dressing  room  in  her  street 
clothes  in  three  minutes,  saying  as  she  looked  at  her 
wrist  watch,  "Gracious,  I've  got  to  go.  I  promised  to 
meet  my  sister  at  four." 

He  crossed  the  room  and  embraced  her.  "I  must 
see  you  again  today.  Will  you  have  dinner  with  me?" 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  41 

"Yes,"  said  Sari,  "only  I  must  go  now,  this  minute." 
She  walked  toward  the  door,  his  arm  around  her.  He 
was  breathing  heavily,  his  mouth  close  to  her  neck. 

"Fate  is  so  wonderful,"  said  Jones  Parkman.  "Only 
think,  this  morning  we  didn't  know  each  other." 

"Yes,"  murmured  Sari. 

He  turned  her  head  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  her.  Sari 
stared  back,  a  guileless,  wileless  gaze,  thinking,  the 
cock-eyed  idiot,  the  cock-eyed  idiot,  he  can't  get  any 
power  over  me  if  he  stares  in  my  eyes  all  day.  But 
the  strain  was  telling  on  her.  A  little  muscle  at  the 
corner  of  her  mouth  gave  a  twitch. 

He  laughed  triumphantly,  and  folded  her  in  his 
arms.  Sari  did  not  move  though  the  kiss  was  long, 
and  very  unpleasant.  Her  hand  was  on  the  doorknob. 

When  his  hold  relaxed,  and  he  was  bracing  his 
mind  for  another  bit  of  sentimentality,  Sari  opened 
the  door,  and  stepped  gaily  out,  laughing.  This  was 
a  real  bit  of  acting,  as  she  was  horribly  nauseated. 

"See  you  at  seven,"  she  called. 

"At  the  Congress,"  he  shouted  down  the  hall  after 
her,  smiling,  waving,  comic. 

She  ran  on  down  toward  the  elevators. 

VI 

When  she  got  to  the  street  she  ran,  losing  herself  in 
the  crowds,  powdering  herself  with  people  of  day- 
light, hurrying,  wholesome  people.  All  at  once  she 
realized  that  she  had  left  her  purse  in  the  studio.  She 
felt  in  her  pockets,  just  ten  cents.  It  would  get  her 
home  slowly  on  the  street  cars.  She  went  into  a  drug 
store. 

"I've  only  ten  cents,"  she  told  a  white-robed  clerk, 
"but  I'd  like  an  antiseptic  mouth  wash." 

"Sore  throat?"  asked  the  sympathetic  boy. 


42  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Yes."  He  gave  her  a  small  bottle  and  she  hurried 
to  a  department  store.  Over  a  wash  bowl  she  swished 
the  gargle  back  and  forth,  through  her  teeth,  and 
poured  the  rest  down  the  drain.  Then  she  hunted  up 
Nita  and  went  home  to  a  hot  bath  and  bed.  She 
couldn't  face  the  family  talk  at  dinner.  Her  mother 
came  and  sat  beside  her,  feeling  a  futile  wish  to  com- 
municate with  Sari,  to  help  her,  but  Sari  refused  all 
offers  of  supper,  cold  cloths  on  her  head,  companion- 
ship. 

She  turned  and  tossed  on  the  bed,  writhing,  and 
stronger  and  stronger,  as  the  hours  separating  her  from 
the  incident  grew,  she  felt  the  hand  of  Parkman  on 
her  .  .  .  .his  kiss  .  .  Toward  dawn,  she  slept 
clinging  to  Dizzy's  unconscious  form. 


CHAPTER  VI 


AT  SEVEN,  Ward  made  her  daily  pilgrimage  to  the 
water's  edge.  The  old  black  pier  was  a  ragged  road- 
way over  the  blue  still  lake,  bright  and  calm  with  the 
soothing  vigor  of  size  and  strength.  She  picked  her 
way  carefully  to  the  end  of  it  over  perilous  boards 
placed  there  by  neighborhood  fishing  men.  The  sun 
had  dropped  behind  the  green  foliage  on  the  shore. 
In  the  foreground  the  aureate  sands  were  soft  like  new- 
fallen  snow.  In  such  a  setting  the  love  legend  might 
unfold. 

Roderick  Preston,  bathed  and  dressed  in  white  after 
a  grimy  day  at  the  steel  mills,  was  drawn  to  the  beach 
by  a  vague  undefined  hope  of  seeing  her.  He  came  to 
her  over  the  flimsy  board  path,  and  they  rather  breath- 
lessly watched  the  sun  spread  a  gauze  of  pink  and 
gold  over  the  turquoise  blue  between  them  and  the 
shore.  They  were  stirred,  not  so  much  by  the  shim- 
mering and  silent  beauty,  as  with  the  consciousness  of 
themselves  at  the  colored  heart  of  it.  Ward  looked 
at  Rod  and  felt  his  joyous,  youthful  charm.  She  felt 
her  youth,  her  charm,  her  beauty,  too.  Their  talk 
was  decorated  with  the  happy  meeting  of  their  eyes. 

II 

Nita  at  this  minute  was  strolling  leisurely  down  the 
boulevard  to  the  home  of  Mrs.  Paul  de  Remy,  who 
called  herself  a  Christian  Science  practitioner,  though 

43 


44  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

her  church  did  not  recognize  her  as  one.  The  familiar 
principle  of  mysticism  that  concentration  through 
prayer  is  able  to  bring  about  definite  material  results 
had  been  grasped  by  Mrs.  de  Remy's  feeble  intellec- 
tual machine.  She  called  it  working  in  science,  and 
understanding  that  certain  things  which  she  desired 
were  about  to  come  to  pass.  She  did  not  so  much  en- 
deavor to  heal  the  sick,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  de- 
mons and  cleanse  the  leper,  which  is  the  ideal  and  aim 
of  the  sincere  practitioner  in  his  religion,  as  she  tried 
to  heal  sick  purses,  raise  dead  loves,  and  cast  out  de- 
mons in  the  shape  of  "animal"  natures  which  did  not 
believe  in  "science." 

"Oh,  good  evening,  dear,  I'm  so  happy  to  see  you," 
her  voice  lilted  as  she  saw  Anita  coming  up  the  walk. 
"Isn't  this  a  lovely  evening?  I'm  always  so  happy  on 
nights  like  this." 

She  was  a  pretty  little  woman  of  forty,  slim,  rose- 
complexioned,  who  looked  ten  years  younger.  She 
lived  in  a  small  bungalow  with  her  only  child,  a  boy 
of  twelve,  who  "worked  in  Science  every  morning  (it 
was  too  cute  for  anything)  to  gain  dominion  over 
error,"  typified  in  his  alert  young  mind  by  his  teach- 
ers and  the  gang  at  school.  Her  husband  existed 
vaguely,  sometimes  in  the  south,  and  sometimes  in  the 
east.  He  had  a  very  dark  thought,  she  confided  in 
Nita,  and  was  very  much  the  animal  type.  And  he 
was  opposed  to  Science,  and  so  she  had  been  compelled 
to  give  him  up. 

Twenty-two  or  three  years  before,  a  young  boy  of 
nineteen,  who  was  studying  to  be  an  artist,  had  en- 
treated her  to  marry  him,  and  on  her  refusal  had  trag- 
ically gone  off  to  New  York  and  become  a  well  known 
sketcher  of  comic  pictures.  Mrs.  de  Remy  had  fol- 
lowed his  private  adventures  with  some  difficulty 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  45 

through  paragraphs  in  the  newspapers,  and  through 
one  interview  with  him  which  she  had  obtained  after 
considerable  trouble  about  five  years  before  when  she 
was  in  New  York.  She  now  was  "working  in  science" 
to  know  that  she  would  be  released  from  Mr.  de  Remy 
in  order  to  marry  Mr.  Murphy,  the  cartoonist.  Mr. 
Murphy,  being  burdened  with  one  wife,  his  third, 
knew  nothing  of  this  romantic  scheme  of  Mrs.  de 
Remy.  Nita  sometimes  suspected  that  he  might  even 
have  forgotten  his  declaration  at  the  age  of  nineteen 
that  Mrs.  de  Remy  had  ruined  his  life.  She  never 
hinted  this  to  Mrs.  de  Remy,  who  was  trying  to  "un- 
derstand" that  God  would  arrange  everything. 

It  was  Mrs.  de  Remy  who  had  first  suggested  to 
Nita  that  God  would  help  her  in  finding  a  husband. 
"We'll  just  know  that  God  is  your  husband,"  Mrs. 
de  Remy  had  said  in  her  soft,  clear,  even  tones,  "and 
then  you  can't  make  a  mistake.  You  are  bound  to 
get  the  right  one.  I'll  work  for  you,  dear.  I'll  work 
to  know  that  you  will  meet  the  right  one,  and  then  it's 
sure  to  come  right." 

This  "working"  of  Mrs.  de  Remy's  had  so  far  re- 
sulted in  two  definite  material  things;  a  new  pair  of 
very  smart  shoes  for  Master  Paul  de  Remy,  and  the 
appearance  on  the  scene  of  Mr.  Howard  Blackton. 

As  soon  as  preliminaries  were  over  Nita  hastened 
to  tell  Mrs.  de  Remy  about  the  meeting. 

"And  he  seems  like  the  right  one,  does  he,"  said 
Mrs.  de  Remy,  a  little  sympathetic  laugh  in  her  voice. 
"We  must  work  to  know  that  he  is  the  right  one.  I 
suppose  he  has  lots  of  money?" 

Nita  replied  a  little  coldly.  Mrs.  de  Remy  had 
talked  about  money  to  her  before.  It  jarred.  "I 
don't  know." 


46  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Well,  you  must  find  out.  Men  have  absolutely  no 
principles.  I  would  never  have  been  married  to  Mr. 
de  Remy  today  if  I  had  been  a  little  wiser  about  those 
things.  We  have  to  be  careful,  because  men  will  lie. 
I  thought  that  Mr.  de  Remy  was  wealthy  before  we 
married.  He  had  a  car,  and  a  home,  both  good-look- 
ing, and  he  gave  me  wonderful  presents.  And  his 
business!  Well,  after  we  were  married,  I  found  that 
his  business  was  absolutely  failing,  and  the  house  was 
mortgaged — it  had  to  go,  and  the  car  wasn't  paid  for!" 

Her  mouth  twisted  itself  into  sullen  lines  as  she  re- 
membered her  awakening.  But  her  gaze  softened  and 
became  benignant  again  as  she  put  her  mind  on  Nita's 
affairs.  "You  won't  make  that  mistake.  You  can 
have  him  looked  up  in  Dun's,  you  know." 

"I  don't  care  about  his  having  money,  anyway," 
said  Nita. 

"Oh,  well,  of  course  we  know  in  Science  that  those 
things  are  all  really  unnecessary  as  God  is  our  supply, 
but  at  the  same  time  I  think  we  ought  to  have  a  clear 
understanding  about  all  material  things  before  mar- 
riage, anyway.  Did  you  ask  him  if  he  was  interested 
in  Science?" 

"No,  I  didn't  ask  him,  but  I'm  pretty  sure  he  isn't. 
Don't  you  know,  young  men  aren't  very  often." 

"But  he  isn't  opposed  to  it,  is  he?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so.  He  seems  very  normal,  and 
healthy — as  if  he  came  from  good  stock,  and  he  shows 
good  breeding,  too.  I  think  that's  the  main  thing.  He 
seemed  to  sort  of  like  me,  I  don't  know.  Most  young 
men  fall  for  my  sister  Ward." 

"And  he  didn't?  Well,  I  think  it's  a  demonstration, 
I  really  do!"  Her  eyes  became  misty.  She  did  not 
mean  to  be  unflattering. 

"I  don't  think  it  matters  about  his  having  money," 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  47 

said  Nita,  hesitatingly.  "I  mean,  if  he  hasn't  any. 
There  is  something  about  him  that  makes  you  know 
he's  going  to  be  successful.  He's  got  all  the  typical 
American  push  and  go.  And  I  think  that's  what 
counts." 

"Yes,  I  do,  too.  That  was  just  the  way  it  was  with 
Tom  Murphy.  He  said  to  me,  if  I'm  not  a  success  as 
an  artist,  I'm  going  to  get  into  something  else,  but 
whatever  I  get  into,  I'm  going  to  be  a  success.  And 
now  he's  got  to  be  one  of  our  foremost  artists.  You 
could  just  feel  as  you  say,  that  he  would. 

"Yes,"  said  Nita  hastily.  She  had  heard  about  Tom 
Murphy's  great  success  before.  Mrs.  de  Remy's  igno- 
rance of  art  was  so  great  that  it  made  even  Nita 
squirm  to  hear  her  talk  about  it.  "Mr.  Blackton  seems 
to  be  just  the  sort  I  want  to  marry." 

"Well,  dear,  I'll  work  to  know,  then,  that  nothing 
can  come  between  you — no  error  that  is,  and  that  you 
are  already  married  in  divine  love?  You  want  me  to 
keep  on  working  for  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  if  you  will.  Of  course  I  work  some  myself, 
but " 

"But  you  feel  that  you  need  help.  Yes,  dear,  I  un- 
derstand." Her  voice  was  infinitely  gentle.  "Well, 
dear,  I'm  expecting  a  patient  soon.  I'm  so  glad  you 
ran  up  to  see  me.  Come  up  again  tomorrow  night, 
and  if  you  are  worried  about  anything  during  the  day, 
just  call  me  up." 

Ill 

Leaving  Mrs.  de  Remy,  Nita  strolled  slowly  back 
along  the  boulevard  to  make  a  call  on  Mary  Field. 
Dusk  was  coming  down  on  the  street  like  sober  colored 
confetti,  motors  buzzed  by  like  bees,  the  round  gold 


48  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

heads  of  the  street  lamps  rippled  on  with  the  wave- 
like  movement  of  a  line  of  men  seating  themselves 
rhythmically,  one  by  one. 

Bill  Wicker  was  calling  on  Mary,  Nita  found.  To 
Mary  this  was  the  opening  chapter  of  her  love  tale. 
She  was  tense  now  in  her  effort  to  live  up  to  the  art- 
less, girlish  human  that  she  conceived  herself  as  being. 

"This  morning  I  was  up  at  six  to  get  breakfast  for 
father.  Mother  does  not  arise  until  a  quarter  to  seven. 
I  had  such  a  time  frying  the  eggs.  I  was  really  very 
clumsy.  I  broke  the  yolk  of  one.  Wasn't  that  shock- 
ing? Then  after  breakfast  I  did  up  the  dishes.  Mother 
wiped  them.  She  always  helps  me  a  little  during  the 
day.  Then  I  swept  the  living  rooms  and  cleaned  the 
windows.  I  love  cleaning,  don't  you?  Then  it  was 
lunch  time  and  I  got  luncheon  for  my  little  sister  and 
my " 

Nita  made  her  escape  as  soon  as  possible  and  went 
to  find  Helene  Partridge.  "Ye  fishes !  Something  revo- 
lutionary has  happened,"  she  announced  to  Helene. 
"Little  Bill  Wicker  is  calling  on  the  Village  Beauty!" 

"Good  Lord,  haven't  men  queer  taste?"  demanded 
Helene  fiercely.  "You  know  he  tried  to  make  up  to 
me  last  night,  but  Good  Heavens,  I  thought  he  was 
a  jokel" 


CHAPTER  VII 
I 

It  was  several  weeks  before  Nita  saw  Mrs.  de  Remy 
again.  She  had  no  more  need  of  "treatments."  Then 
one  hot  afternoon,  late  in  July,  it  chanced  that  they 
took  the  same  homeward-bound  train  from  town. 

"Isn't  this  lucky.  I'm  so  glad.  I  hate  this  long 
ride  alone,  don't  you?"  was  Mrs.  de  Remy's  greeting. 
"How  have  you  been  getting  along?  You  haven't  been 
over  for  some  time.  I  do  miss  our  little  visits." 

Mrs.  de  Remy  wondered  if  Nita  was  still  interested 
in  young  Mr.  Blackton. 

"Oh,  yes,"  Nita  laughed.  She  had  a  laughing  look 
that  was  deprecating,  like  the  expression  of  a  puppy 
caught  on  the  dinner  table — a  naughty  look,  charm- 
ing, that  seemed  to  say  doggedly,  frankly,  "I  know 
this  is  against  my  pretensions,  but  you  have  suspected 
me  all  along,  haven't  you?" 

"Have  you  seen  him  lately?"  Mrs.  de  Remy 
achieved  intimacy  in  her  tone. 

"Yes,  I  saw  him  yesterday.  He  had  on  white  flan- 
nels. He  looks  quite  beautiful  in  white  flannels.  His 
looks  are  so  changeable.  I  believe  it  is  the  boy  and 
the  man  in  him.  Sometimes  he  looks  kind  of  round- 
faced  and  sweet,  and  then  I  don't  like  his  looks  at  all. 
And  then  he  looks  hard  and  quite  a  picture  type.  You 
know  what  a  respecter  of  looks  I  am.  My  tender 
sentiments  fluctuate  as  I  like  How's  looks  or  don't." 

"It's  the  artist  in  you,"  said  Mrs.  de  Remy.  She 
attributed  most  of  Nita's  qualities  to  the  genius  she 

49 


50  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

believed  Nita  to  possess.  For  some  obscure  reason 
she  longed  to  shine  as  a  patroness  of  the  arts,  and  she 
passionately  admired  Nita's  commonplace  drawings. 

Nita  was  too  smart  not  to  know  that  Mrs.  de  Remy 
was  a  fool.  She  had  a  low  opinion  of  Mrs.  de  Remy's 
powers  of  reasoning,  but  had  a  sort  of  attachment  for 
her  on  account  of  what  she  called  her  spiritual  in- 
sight. 

Nita  was  her  only  confidant  in  Lakeshore  concern- 
ing the  animality  of  Mr.  de  Remy,  and  her  love  for 
Tom  Murphy. 

II 

"Do  you  think  there  is  any  sign  that  Mr.  Blackton 
has  responded  any  to  the  treatments?" 

Nita  laughed.  "That  sounds  so  funny,"  she  said 
with  some  embarrassment. 

"Well,  of  course,  we're  not  treating  him.  That 
would  be  error,  of  course.  I'm  only  just  working  to 
know  that  God  is  your  husband,  and  if  he's  the  right 
one  he's  bound  to  respond  to  this.  Have  you  noticed 
anything?" 

"He  walks  by  the  house  every  night  that  he  doesn't 
come  over  to  see  me,"  she  said,  laughing.  "That  shows 
some  interest,  don't  you  think?  He  just  strolls  by  in 
a  sort  of  casual  off-hand  way.  I'm  usually  sitting  on 
the  porch,  so  I  see  him  about  every  night." 

"Isn't  that  splendid?  Really,  I  think  it's  a  dem- 
onstration. Has  he  proposed  or  said  anything  about 
marriage?" 

"No,"  said  Nita,  uncomfortable  under  this  frank 
question.  "He  treats  me  as  if  I  were  his  sister.  I 
don't  know  why  he  doesn't  make  love  to  me.  Of 
course  I'm  glad  he  doesn't.  I  hate  all  this  mushiness. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  51 

Roderick  Preston  is  madly  in  love  with  Ward.  He 
acts  like  a  perfect  slave.  But  then  men  always  act 
that  way  to  Ward." 

"Never  you  mind,  dear,  I  have  a  feeling — a  sort  of 
intuition.  We  practitioners  do  get  these  intuitions  at 
times,  you  know — that  he  will  propose  very  soon.  I'm 
going  to  work  for  you  a  little  while  now." 


Ill 


Mrs.  de  Remy  got  off  at  the  station  before  Anita's 
and  so  Anita  was  left  on  the  train  alone  for  a  few  min- 
utes. Mrs.  de  Remy  always  did  inspire  her  with  a 
thought  that  she  would  be  successful  in  whatever  she 
was  undertaking.  That  was  her  charm  for  Anita. 
That  was  the  charm  of  Christian  Science.  Nita  began 
to  concentrate;  in  the  phraseology  of  Mrs.  de  Remy, 
she  began  to  know  that  she  would  see  Howard  that 
evening.  She  had  missed  him  the  night  before. 

As  she  stepped  from  the  train,  hot  and  dusty,  Lake- 
shore  was  cool  and  caressing — a  soothing  open  coun- 
try after  the  clatter  of  the  Loop  and  the  roar  of  the 
train.  At  the  foot  of  the  street  in  a  small  car  sat 
Howard  Blackton,  blushing  and  looking  sheepish. 
Nita  hurried  to  him  with  the  elated  consciousness  that 
she  had  made  a  "demonstration." 

"It's  Wick's  car.  Belongs  to  his  uncle  or  somebody. 
It's  loaned  for  a  few  weeks.  Thought  you  might  come 
in  on  this  train,  and  as  I  happened  to  be  down  this 
way,  wondered  if  you  wouldn't  like  to  go  swimming 
before  dinner?" 

Nita  exclaimed  her  pleasure  at  the  idea. 

In  the  later  afternoon  sunlight  the  water  was  a 
placid  turquoise.  They  swam  out  to  the  end  of  the 


52  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

pier  and  looked  back.  The  water  glimmered  gold 
around  the  shore  to  the  west. 

"It's  a  pity  we  can't  see  the  fireworks  from  the 
shore,"  said  Nita,  loving  the  cool  water  on  her  body. 

"I  don't  know,  it's  sort  of  nice  to  have  it  rare  like 
this,"  was  Howard's  comment.  He  ducked  beneath 
the  water  as  if  frightened  at  his  own  tremendous 
poetry  of  feeling. 

Nita  felt  that  it  was  a  big  moment.  Of  course.  The 
two  of  them  seeing  a  scene  of  beauty  together  with  no 
one  else  there.  It  was  like  a  story  in  a  magazine.  She 
would  like  to  paint  a  picture  of  it,  but  it  was  one  of 
those  rare  things  which  you  simply  couldn't  put  down 
on  paper.  Nita  frequently  indulged  herself  in  mo- 
ments of  sentimentality  like  this  when  there  was  no 
possibility  of  its  interference  with  her  future  plans. 

IV 

Sari,  dainty  and  saucy-looking  in  a  short  organdy 
dress  of  flame  color,  beckoned  from  the  shore.  Wicker 
was  standing  beside  her. 

"Doesn't  she  look  like  a  poster,  with  her  bobbed 
hair  flying  like  that?"  asked  Nita. 

"By  jinks,  she  does,"  said  Howard.  "I  haven't  got 
your  artistic  eye,  and  so  I  didn't  think  of  it.  She 
looks  mighty  pretty,  though." 

He  swam  a  few  strokes,  and  then  ventured  to  add — 
"Like  the  rest  of  her  sisters." 

Nita  came  to  the  shore  in  an  excellent  mood.  How- 
ard, feeling  that  he  was  becoming  very  adept  in  the 
game  of  talking  to  women,  also  felt  happy. 

"Dinner's  ready,"  said  Sari,  who  had  been  snubbing 
Wicker  with  great  gusto. 

"I've  enjoyed  my  swim,"  said  Nita,  turning  to  How- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  53 

ard,  who  was  coming  up  from  the  water  with  a  stag- 
gering step  and  shaking  the  water  out  of  his  ears. 

"Oh,  just  a  minute.  There's  one  thing  I'd  like  to 
ask  you." 

They  all  paused  and  waited  for  Howard.  He  came 
up  slowly,  and  stood  shifting  his  weight  from  one  foot 
to  the  other  without  saying  anything. 

"Well,"  said  Sari,  coldly,  as  Nita  was  regarding  him 
with  no  show  of  disfavor  at  this  delay. 

"I'm  afraid  I'm  making  a  perfect  nuisance  of  my- 
self, but  I  was  wondering  whether  I  could  come  over 
with  Rod  tonight.  He  tells  me  he  is  calling  on  Ward." 

"Yes,  do,"  said  Nita.    "I'll  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"May  I  come  too?"  said  Wicker,  looking  at  Sari. 

"Ask  my  sister,"  said  Sari.  "I  am  engaged  for  the 
evening,  but  perhaps  she  can  entertain  you." 

"See  you  later,  then,"  said  Nita  running  off  gaily, 
pretending  not  to  have  heard  this  conversation.  On 
the  sidewalk  she  waited  for  Sari. 

"I  think  you  might  really  show  that  you  have  had 
some  breeding,  once  in  a  while,"  said  Anita.  "It  was 
horribly  rude  the  way  you  came  in  with  that  'Well!' 
at  poor  Howard.  Like  a  school  teacher." 

"Good  Heavens,  I  thought  he  was  going  to  stand 
there  all  night.  He  acted  as  if  he  was  getting  up  his 
nerve  to  propose  to  you." 

Mrs.  Harris  in  white,  and  with  an  unnecessary 
folded  parasol  in  her  hand  came  toward  them  smiling. 

"What  have  my  little  buds  been  doing?" 

"Nita's  just  made  a  feeble-minded  date,  and  I've 
just  turned  one  down.  That  moron,  Bill  Wicker, 
keeps  asking  me,  and  asking  me!" 

Mrs.  Harris  was  pleased. 

"My  little  girl  has  taken  her  mother's  words  serious- 
ly about  Mr.  Wicker.  It  never  does  to  associate  with 


54  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

dangerous  men.  You  can't  play  about  with  fire  with- 
out getting  singed." 

Sari's  childish  temper  flamed  at  this  maternal  inter- 
pretation. Nita  winked.  "You're  a  dear,  Nita,"  said 
Sari  in  an  undertone.  "I'd  like  to  tell  you  something 
about  the  first  of  August,  but  it's  got  to  be  kept  a 
secret  and  I  can't." 

"You  arouse  my  interest,"  said  Anita  amiably.  She 
was  quite  indifferent. 

As  they  went  up  the  steps  of  the  house  Dizzy 
flourished  a  letter  at  her  oldest  sister.  "You'll  help 
me  break  the  news  to  mother,  won't  you,  Anita  dear? 
It  came  in  the  afternoon  mail,  and  it  shows  I  can  do 
it.  I  told  you  all  I  could  but  you  wouldn't  believe. 
Nita,  will  you  help  me  with  mother?" 

Nita  opened  the  letter  and  read  it. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 

URBANA 

OFFICE  OF  THE  REGISTRAR 
Miss  Elizabeth  Harris, 

Chicago,  Illinois. 
Dear  Madam: 

In  reply  to  your  letter  of  July  7  I  beg  leave  to  state 
that  we  will  accept  credits  on  certificate  without  ex- 
amination from  fully  accredited  high  schools.  For 
work  done  under  a  private  instructor  it  will  be  neces- 
sary for  you  to  pass  our  entrance  examinations  in 
order  to  secure  entrance  credit.  If  you  will  send  in 
to  this  office  a  statement  of  all  of  your  high  school 
work  I  shall  be  glad  to  inform  you  concerning  your 
standing  for  admission. 

Yours  very  truly, 

JAMES  M.  JONES, 
S/S  Chief  Clerk. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  55 

"Honey,  dear,  you  wouldn't  care  for  Illinois." 

"Will  you  help  me?"  asked  Dizzy  impatiently. 

"Well,  Dizzy,  I'll  do  all  I  can — you'll  have  to  give 
me  a  few  days  to  think  it  over." 

She  went  into  the  house  to  dress  and  promptly  for- 
got all  about  it. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  DAY  before  Sari's  stage  debut,  Olive  announced 
crossly  that  she  was  leaving. 

"I'm  going  to  be  married.  I've  always  been  used 
to  being  married,  and  I've  never  been  used  to  doing 
this  kind  of  work,  and  with  you  girls  taking  a  bath 
every  day  I  don't  know  what.  I've  always  been  used 
to  thinking  of  myself  as  a  clean  person,  but  I  never 
bathed  oftener  than  once  a  week  in  my  life.  It  ain't 
natural.  And  it'll  ruin  your  health  going  in  swimming 
and  then  coming  right  back  and  bathing,  see  if  it  don't. 
My  second  husband  caught  cold  and  died  from  taking 
a  bath.  He  caught  pneumonia,  but  land,  he  never 
bathed  as  often  as  what  you  girls  do." 

"That  will  do,  Olive,"  said  Sari. 

Olive  left  the  room. 

"Sari,  you  make  me  ill  with  your  airs,"  said  Dizzy. 
"The  poor  old  thing  hasn't  been  used  to  being  treated 
like  a  dog." 

"Ye  gods,"  said  Sari.  "Nothing  in  this  house  but 
fight,  fight,  fight.  I  certainly  am  glad  I'm  not  going 
to  be  here  much  longer." 

"I'm  glad  I'm  not,"  said  Dizzy,  heatedly. 

"My,  my,"  said  Anita.  "Where  are  you  two  pleas- 
ant little  youngsters  going?  Children  should  love 
each " 

"Love,"  said  Dizzy.  "She  insults  me.  She  insults 
me  every  time  she  opens  her  mouth.  I  lie  in  bed 
beside  her  and  writhe  under  her  insults.  Why  should 

56 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  57 

I  be  expected  to  be  interested  in  the  sort  of  shoes  that 
are  in  fashion?  Why  should  I  care  whether  a  French 
vamp  is  coming  in  or  going  out  of  style?  She  insults 
me  when  we  go  along  the  street  by  looking  into  shop 
windows.  She  insults  me  by  her  silences,  her  ges- 
tures. Everything  is  an  insult " 

"She's  been  reading  Russian  literature,"  said  Sari, 
laughing  and  shrugging  her  shoulders.  "That's  the 
way  all  the  characters  talk." 

"If  I  weren't  going  away  to  college  this  fall,"  went 

on  Dizzy .  This  question  raised  once  more,  Mrs. 

Harris  found  herself  against  Ward  and  Anita,  who  had 
been  won  over  to  Dizzy's  cause.  Nita  suggested  that 
Dizzy  be  allowed  to  enter  a  slightly  exclusive  girls' 
school  in  Ohio  which  offered  junior  college  courses. 

II 

When  they  rose  from  the  table  Nita  and  Ward 
strolled  to  the  lake.  It  was  just  after  sunset  and  the 
beach  was  as  serene  as  an  old  gray  woman  who  has 
lived  her  years  calmly,  happily.  Michigan  babbled 
and  talked  like  a  brook.  The  sands  received  their 
bodies  graciously  as  they  sank  down  for  a  long  sis- 
terly chat. 

"Ward,  I  know  I  can  be  a  decent  artist  if  I  can  dig 
in  and  study  for  a  year.  When  I  see  those  other  kids 
at  the  Institute  who  have  studied  for  three  years — 
well,  I  know  that  if  I  had  studied  that  long  I  wouldn't 
put  over  the  kind  of  pictures  they  do." 

"I  sort  of  thought  you'd  given  up  the  idea  of  New 
York  since  you'd  met  Howard  Blackton." 

Nita  laughed  self-consciously.  "There  are  a  lot  of 
things  I  want  to  do  before  I  get  married.  I  mean  to 
work  myself  silly  in  New  York." 


58  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I'll  miss  you  awfully." 

"Not  half  as  much  as  I'll  miss  you,  Ward.  I'll  be 
longing  for  your  head  and  shoulders  and  legs  and 
arms,  many  a  time  when  I  want  a  model.  I  won't  be 
able  to  get  another  one  that's  put  together  like  you 
are.  You're  such  a  beauty,  Ward.  We  accept  your 
beauty  as  a  family  asset.  And  it's  not  mere  physical 
beauty  either.  I  believe  that  your  face  shows  what 
you  are — if  you're  nice  you  have  a  nice  face " 

"I  have  the  queerest  feeling  about  myself  some- 
times," said  Ward.  "I  couldn't  say  this  to  anybody 
but  you,  because  it  would  sound  conceited.  But  when 
I  have  the  feeling  all  through  me  that  I'm  just  right, 
I  wonder  if  it  isn't  all  a  dream,  and  if  other  people 
who  seem  ugly  aren't  beautiful  to  themselves.  I  don't 
know  whether  I  can  make  you  understand?  Being 
beautiful  to  me  is  so  vivid,  so  real  that  it's  unreal, 
like  a  lunatic's  vision.  I  wonder  if  every  woman 
doesn't  have  the  same  delusion.  Perhaps  it's  all  a 
dream,  and  I'm  only  imagining  that  I'm  beautiful  as 
a  man  might  fancy  himself  a  genius  when  he  is  only 
an  ordinary  mortal.  My  mirrors  and  ears  might  be 
in  a  conspiracy.  It's  so  strongly  in  my  inner  con- 
sciousness that  I  am  beautiful." 

"I've  had  the  feeling  that  all  life  around  me  is  a 
dream,"  said  Anita,  "and  that  I'm  the  only  reality  in 
it.  That  feeling  of  beauty  clear  through  you  gives  you 
poise,  and  maybe  that's  your  secret,  Ward  dear,  that 
Helene  and  Mary  are  anxious  to  know." 

"When  I  sit  here  and  talk  to  you,  Anita,  I  love  you 
better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world.  You  are  so 
easy  to  talk  to,  you  understand  so  well.  You  seem 
so  just  right  in  your  way  of  looking  at  things.  And 
yet,  in  another  way  you're  awfully  cold,  Anita.  You 
can  go  off  to  New  York  and  leave  us  all  without  a 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  59 

word.  You  can  marry  sort  of  cold-bloodedly.  You 
can  drop  people  when  you  don't  want  them  any  more 
without  another  thought.  Sometimes  I  think,  you  just 
like  all  of  us  because  it's  easier  for  you  to  like  the 
people  around  you." 

Anita  was  hurt.  "Oh,  that's  not  so.  I'd  never  find 
another  person  in  the  world  I  would  feel  the  same  way 
to  that  I  do  to  you.  I  like  Dizzy  a  lot,  too.  What 
you  say  may  be  true  of  mother  and  Sari.  I  feel  a 
sense  of  duty  toward  mother,  and  toward  Sari,  noth- 
ing much.  She's  a  silly  little  fool,  I  think." 

"I  love  mother,"  said  Ward.  "There's  something 
awfully  fine  and  delicate  about  her." 

"Yes,  there  is.  But  I'm  not  at  all  sure  that  I  would 
care  if  I  never  saw  her  again."  She  paused,  still  hurt, 
thinking  of  Ward's  charge  against  her.  "I  could  get 
along  all  by  myself  without  any  of  you,  that's  true. 
But  I  should  miss  you,  Ward.  I'm  not  dependent  on 
anyone,  but  I  shall  be  unhappy — get  like  Helene — if 
I  don't  marry  and  I  am  not  cold  blooded  about  it 
either.  I  can  feel  a  sense  of  uselessness,  horrible 
Discontent  creeping  over  me.  When  I  marry  I  shall 
become  thoroughly  practical.  I  do  want  to  know  nice 
people,  and  I  haven't  time  for  people  that  aren't — 
well,  worth  while,  people  who  do  things.  I  want  to 
be  worth  knowing  myself,  and  I  want  a  normal  life — 
husband  and  children." 

"I'm  sorry  I  said  that,"  said  Ward.  "It's  because 
I  feel  badly,  because  you're  going  away,  I  suppose." 

"You  hit  a  sore  spot.  You  still  think  it,  though, 
don't  you?" 

"Well,  some.    I  honestly  didn't  mean  it  bitterly." 

"From  now  on,  Ward,  I  think  I'll  have  to  cultivate 
you  assiduously.  It  weighs  upon  me  that  I  have 


60  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

neglected  you.    I  wanted  to  ask  you  how  you  liked 
Howard  Blackton,  really." 

"You're  not  serious  about  him?" 

Again  Nita  was  hurt.    "Don't  you  like  him?" 

"Yes,  I  like  him  lots.  He's  so  clean-looking.  No 
one  could  help  liking  him.  But  it  seems,  somehow, 
as  if  you  could  get  some  one  really  splendid.  You're 
much  the  nicest  person  in  our  family.  You  should 
marry  a  really  splendid,  great  man." 

"I  don't  want  a  great  man.  I  don't  look  forward 
to  a  big  success.  I'm  not  a  genius  myself  and  don't 
fancy  myself  as  one.  I  think  that  people  who  take 
themselves  and  their  work  as  seriously  as  Dizzy  does 
are  always  a  little  ridiculous.  But  I  do  want  a  man 
that's  successful,  and  well,  commonplace,  but  not  com- 
mon. Howard  Blackton  will  be  successful." 

"Yes,  he'll  be  that,  all  right,"  said  Ward.  "Ten 
years  from  now  you  can  just  see  him  with  a  family 
and  a  home  in  the  suburbs." 

v  "The  great  endeavor  to  draw  no-account  little  pic- 
tures and  get  them  in  print  looks  as  little  and  unim- 
portant to  Howard  as  spending  a  lifetime  carving  one 
of  those  complex,  hideous  ivory  vases  in  the  Art 
Institute." 

"You  won't  have  much  in  common." 

"We  don't  speak  the  same  language.  He  puts  down 
things  like  Christian  Science  as  a  sort  of  bosh.  Just 
plain  figures,  and  earthbound  business  and  straight 
stuff  interests  him.  And  it  seems  sort  of  flavorless 
to  me." 

"But  why,  why,  why,  then?" 

"Darn  itl  I'm  crazy  about  him.  He  was  telling 
me  about  a  friend  of  his  and  I  could  see  it  was  his 
ideal  of  a  girl  and  marriage.  She  was  this  man's  "col- 
lege girl"  for  four  years.  She  was  good-looking  and 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  61 

had  had  everything  but  was  perfectly  happy  to  live 
in  a  little  apartment  and  cook  and  so  forth — just  make 
a  wonderful  home  for  a  man.  And  he  told  me  this 
when  I'd  just  spieled  my  head  off  about  the  joys  of 
arting." 

"And  yet  you  think  you'll  marry  him?" 

"I  will  if  he  proposes  to  me " 

"Hasn't  he  proposed  yet?" 

"Oh,  Ward;  he's  got  to  propose,  so  I  can  have  it  off 
my  mind.  I've  been  worried  about  it  a  little,  and  it's 
got  to  come  right.  Oh,  I  know  it  will.  Then  I  can 
go  to  New  York  with  a  clear  conscience.  You  know 
he's  going  to  California  next  month,  anyway,  and 
we'll  have  a  whole  continent  between  us.  We  must 
be  engaged." 

"You'll  probably  meet  some  one  else  in  New  York. 
It  seems  important  now,  I  know,  but " 

"Ward,  I've  made  up  my  mind.  I  don't  think  he's 
particularly  wonderful  in  lots  of  ways,  but  he's  the 
man  I  want,  and  I'm  going  to  marry  him  if  he'll  only 
ask  me.  But  not  for  a  long  time." 

"But  in  the  years  aren't  you  afraid  you'll  lose  him?" 

"Yes,  I  am,  horribly  afraid,  but  I'm  not  going  to 
let  myself  be.  I'm  just  going  to  love  him,  and  he's 
going  to  love  me.  I  believe  in  love  like  that,  Ward." 

It  was  a  phrase  to  Nita,  that  belief.  She  had  no 
faith  in  changeless  love — only  in  her  own  successful 
destiny.  But  to  Ward,  sitting  there  on  the  sand  with 
the  violet  luminous  evening  all  about  her,  it  was  aching 
poignant  reality.  Her  eyes  on  the  harbor  light  at 
South  Chicago  flashing  off  and  on,  white  and  red,  she 
was  thinking — love  is  not  like  that;  it  burns  a  steady 
white  light  forever  like  the  stars.  She  looked  up  into 
the  fluctuating  blues  and  purples  of  the  heavens  tran- 
suded with  dewdrops  of  light — millions  of  stars;  think 


62  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

of  it!  stars  burning  steadily  like  millions  of  loves; 
happy  loves;  think  of  it;  millions  of  ecstatic  girls 
mating  with  their  charming  princes  every  day;  it  was 
wonderful,  a  world  like  that.  When  would  her  prince 
come?  Was  Rod ? 


CHAPTER  IX 


AT  BREAKFAST  the  next  morning,  Dizzy  presented  a 
small  advertisement  in  a  newspaper  to  her  mother, 
which  said  that  a  representative  of  the  Wharton 
School  for  Girls,  Essex,  Ohio,  could  be  seen  at  the 
Hotel  La  Salle,  daily.  Nita  and  Ward  rose  to  the 
occasion  and  urged  her  to  go  down  town  at  once  and 
meet  the  educator.  After  some  telephoning  an  inter- 
view was  arranged,  and  Dizzy,  Ward  and  Mrs.  Harris 
caught  a  mid-morning  train. 

The  school  would  admit  Dizzy  to  the  Junior  college 
with  the  understanding  that  if  she  were  not  able  to 
keep  up  she  was  to  drop  back  into  the  fourth  year  of 
preparatory  work.  And  so  it  was  settled  immediately 
that  Dizzy  was  to  spend  her  next  year  at  boarding 
school. 

She  hugged  Ward  impulsively. 

"I  haven't  seen  Dizzy  so  happy  since  she  was  a  little 
girl,"  said  Ward. 

"I'm  never  happy,"  said  Dizzy  shortly.  "I'm  too 
busy  to  be  happy  or  unhappy.  I'm  not  an  emotional, 
young  female." 

"Oh,  Elizabeth,"  said  Mrs.  Harris,  "I  dislike  that 
word  so!" 

"Well,  then,  be  glad  I'm  not  one,"  said  Dizzy. 

63 


64  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


II 

There  was  shopping  to  be  done.  It  was  nearly  six 
when  they  finally  left  the  train  at  the  Lakeshore  sta- 
tion and  began  the  walk  home. 

"I  hope  Olive  hasn't  messed  up  dinner  too  much," 
said  Ward.  "She  hardly  ever  gets  anything  right. 
I'm  afraid  I  should  have  come  home  early." 

But  inside  the  house  there  was  no  sign  of  dinner, 
no  sign  of  Olive.  Ward  found  her  thrown  across  the 
bed  in  her  room,  sobbing  noisily  into  the  pillows. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  gee.  Miss  Ward,  oh,  gee,"  was  all  Olive  was 
able  to  articulate  at  first;  but  it  became  clear  after  a 
few  moments  that  her  man's  leg  was  broken  and  he 
was  lying  in  a  hospital. 

"But  you  knew  this  before,  Olive.  You  were  telling 
me  this  morning  that  as  soon  as  he  came  out  you  were 
going  to  be  married." 

"Oh,  my,  don't  speak  of  it,"  said  Olive,  her  face 
convulsed  with  pain  at  the  thought.  "We  was  going 
to  be  married.  But  we  can't  be  now.  You  see  he's 
a  teamster  and  the  company  he  works  for  is  going  to 
give  him  a  pension " 

"But  that's  nice,"  said  Ward,  trying  to  be  encourag- 
ing." 

"Oh,  my,  oh,  my,  and  now  he's  got  the  pension  his 
wife  won't  divorce  him " 

"Oh,  but  Olive,  is  he  married?" 

"Oh,  yes.  He's  married,  but  he  was  going  to  get  a 
divorce  and  marry  me,  but  his  wife's  a  Catholic  and 
she  don't  believe  in  divorce  now  that  he's  got  his  pen- 
sion. He  called  me  up  from  the  hospital  to  say  he's 
got  to  go  back  to  her " 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  65 

Ward  hurried  out  to  tell  the  news  to  Dizzy  and  her 
mother.  Then  she  went  down  to  get  dinner,  while 
Mrs.  Harris  went  to  administer  comfort  to  Olive.  Nita 
.coming  in  was  regaled  with  the  story  of  Olive's 
tragedy,  but  Sari  didn't  appear. 

"I  wish  she'd  come,"  murmured  Dizzy.  "I'm  too 
hungry  to  wait  dinner  for  her.  I  think  she  might 
telephone  if  she's  staying  down  to  the  theater  or  any- 
thing." 

They  sat  down  to  dinner  without  her.  Suddenly  in 
,the  midst  of  a  discussion  about  Dizzy's  future  Nita 
exclaimed  dramatically,  "This  is  the  first  of  August." 

"It  is,  isn't  it,"  said  Ward.  "Oh,  dear,  I  wonder 
what  the  child  is  up  to?" 

"What  was  she  always  saying  about  the  first  of 
August?"  asked  Mrs.  Harris  nervously.  "She's  never 
stayed  out  like  this  before." 

"Oh,  she'll  be  in  later,"  said  Ward,  with  a  compas- 
sionate glance  at  her  mother's  worn  face. 

"She  should  have  telephoned,"  fumed  Dizzy. 

The  telephone  rang.  Three  of  them  jumped  to 
answer  it. 

"It's  only  Rod,"  said  Ward.  "The  boys  have  got 
hold  of  a  car,  and  they  want  to  know  if  you  and  I 
and  Sari  want  to  run  down  to  Campus  Gardens?" 

"Do  go,"  said  Mrs.  Harris.  "Sari  will  be  home  by 
the  time  they  get  here,  I  am  sure.  I  expect  her  any 
moment  now." 

Ill 

But  when  Bill  Wicker  drove  up  at  nine  o'clock  only 
two  girls  were  prepared  to  join  the  party. 

"Where's  Sari?"  demanded  Wicker,  who  still  an- 
ticipated a  conquest. 


66  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Why  she  hasn't  come  home  from  the  studio  yet, 
the  little  wretch.  Mother  is  horribly  worried.  I  think 
she's  gone  to  the  theater  with  some  of  the  girls  from 
the  studio " 

"Too  bad,"  said  Wicker,  perfunctorily.  "Well, 
we'll  have  to  get  another  girl  if  we  are  going  to  dance. 
Your  young  sister  wouldn't  come,  I  suppose?" 

"Oh,  mother  wouldn't  hear  of  it,"  said  Ward,  has- 
tily. "She's  only  sixteen.  Let's  get  Mary." 

"Well!"  Wicker  puckered  his  lips  and  twisted  them 
about  in  his  face  thoughtfully,  and  rejected  Mary  with 
the  carelessness  of  a  man  turning  over  a  page.  "She 
calls  me  Mr.  Wicker,  and  treats  me  like  I'm  a  real 
grown-up  man." 

" or  Helene?"  went  on  Ward. 

"Well,"  Wicker  still  hesitated,  sighed  and  ejaculated 
a  feeble  "all  right." 

To  the  relief  of  Ward  and  Anita,  who  remembered 
Mrs.  Partridge's  judgment  of  little  Bill  Wicker, 
Helene  was  alone.  She  felt  a  mysterious  and  naughty 
interest  in  Wicker  and  so  accepted  gladly  and  uniquely, 
for  impromptu  invitations  were  not  favorites  with  her. 
Her  innate  disquiet  about  her  appearance  prevented 
her  from  being  happy  at  a  party  unless  she  had  had  a 
day  or  more  to  prepare  her  clothes,  her  complexion, 
her  hair  for  the  event. 

In  the  car,  running  smoothly  between  the  ribbons 
of  boulevard  lights,  the  six  happy  people  divided  mys- 
tically into  three  happy  couples.  Ward  and  Rod  were 
alone,  their  thoughts  racing  neck  and  neck,  merging, 
dividing  again  to  run  in  parallel  grooves,  leaping  to 
thrilling  adventures  at  the  meeting  of  eyes,  melting 
and  moulding  together  at  a  secret  hand  clasp. 

And  Nita  and  Howard,  together  on  the  back  seat, 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  67 

had  the  same  intimate  sense  of  traveling  along  end- 
lessly, side  by  side. 

Helene's  thoughts  also  took  on  a  poetry,  tinged  with 
the  romance  of  the  summer  sky,  and  the  curly-headed 
boy  beside  her.  A  poetry  slightly  marred  by  the 
ridiculous,  even  in  her  thoughts,  since  he  was  five  or 
six  years  younger  than  she.  What  Mr.  Wicker's 
thoughts  were  may  be  speculated  on  by  no  one  who 
has  not  the  perspicuity  of  that  entertaining  psycholo- 
gist, Mr.  Briggs,  who  tells  with  equal  ease  about  what 
a  two-months-old  infant  or  a  poker  chip  thinks. 

IV 

The  car  pulled  up  at  Campus  Gardens,  a  resort  on 
the  Midway  in  vogue  among  those  undergraduates  of 
the  University  who  had  determined  to  spend  their  four 
years  there  with  the  minimum  amount  of  intellectual 
strain. 

"Horribly  overcrowded  with  Jews,"  muttered  Bill, 
as  he  followed  the  waiter  to  a  table.  "But  then,  every 
place  is.  Wonder  where  they  all  come  from?" 

They  took  their  place  in  the  center  of  a  swarm  of 
dark-eyed,  gay,  brilliantly  dressed  orientals — of  that 
class  of  Semitics  who  habitually  use  the  big  restau- 
rants and  summer  gardens  as  training  schools  in  the 
social  arts.  Jews,  in  the  economic  ascendent  phase, 
learning  to  alter  their  habits.  Jews  conscientiously 
low-voiced,  airing  superlative  outer  refinements  osten- 
tatiously, rising  elaborately  for  their  women,  greeting 
acquaintances  with  a  formality  ascribed  by  the  movies 
to  the  British  aristocracy.  Strident,  ultra-smart  Jews, 
dressed  like  actors  in  a  society  drama,  swaggering,  as- 
serting their  lordship  of  such  places.  And  Jewish 
maidens.  Beautiful,  ugly,  shrinking,  brazen,  aggres- 


68  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

sively  racial-looking  ones,  and  here  and  there,  one  in- 
distinguishable from  a  gentile;  all  expensively  dressed, 
with  shoes,  wraps,  hats,  gloves  in  the  very  height  of 
the  mode.  Ease,  conspicuous  ease,  the  one  thing  they 
all  held  in  common. 

Large  cement  spaces  lay  open  for  dancing.  Rod 
and  Ward,  Nita  and  Howard  joined  the  dancers,  glad 
of  each  other's  arms.  Bill  Wicker  and  Helene  became 
acutely  self-conscious  in  the  network  of  expert  danc- 
ers which  scraped  them  on  all  sides.  To  them  the 
music  blared  hideously,  endlessly.  The  night  stifled 
them,  as  inwardly  cursing  each  other's  skill  they 
tripped  over  each  other's  feet  and  went  doggedly  on 
and  on. 

The  music  ended.  Wicker  clapped  with  the  others, 
hoping  the  orchestra  would  not  give  them  more.  But 
the  lazy  strains  resumed,  and  Helene  and  Wicker,  out 
of  all  harmony,  tried  again. 

When  they  returned  to  their  table,  Bill  hastily  en- 
gaged Ward  for  the  next  dance,  while  Rod  sat  rather 
sulkily  and  said  nothing  during  the  intermission.  He 
was  at  a  stage  in  his  affair  with  Ward  where  he  was 
ready  to  regard  this  innocent  act  of  Bill  Wicker's  as 
a  searing  personal  injury. 

Ward  and  her  curly-headed  partner  glided  through 
the  next  dance  rhythmically.  He  whispered  that  he 
loved  to  see  her  wearing  blue,  it  suited  her  so  well,  to 
which  Ward  languidly  replied,  "Really?  I  thought 
you  told  me  that  nothing  but  green  set  me  off 
properly." 

"You  wear  any  color,  of  course,"  said  Bill  Wicker, 
a  little  slowly,  sending  a  hurry  call  through  his  brain 
to  find  the  incident  of  his  working  his  "line"  on  Ward. 
He  was  so  dull-witted  as  to  fail  to  guess  that  to  ap- 
pear in  character  before  one  of  the  Harris  girls  was 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  69 

to  appear  thus  before  them  all.  He  leaned  back  from 
the  waist,  and  beamed  meaningfully  into  her  eyes. 
She  threw  him  a  bored  look,  which  he  misinterpreted. 

Rod  and  Helene  did  not  dance,  as  Helene  was  quite 
too  exhausted  to  essay  the  floor  again  so  soon.  Rod 
talked  at  random  his  thoughts  on  Ward.  She  had 
gone  off  gayly  with  Bill.  Not  even  a  last  glance  for 
him.  Playing  with  him,  she  was.  He  would  show  her. 

This  resolution  was  extremely  feeble  and  short- 
lived, born  of  a  desire  of  monopoly  rather  than  actual 
jealousy.  But  for  a  few  moments,  to  Ward's  amuse- 
ment, he  devoted  himself  unreservedly  to  Helene,  who 
began  to  entertain  exciting  thoughts  of  actually  taking 
a  man  away  from  Ward. 


Rod  got  up  to  dance  with  Helene.  Ward  and  Wicker 
sailed  off  together  once  more.  Nita  and  Howard 
looked  at  each  other  through  a  delicate  vari-colored 
gauze  of  emotion. 

"I  hope  I'm  not  keeping  you  from  dancing,"  said 
Anita,  with  quite  subconscious  if  trite  attempt  to  draw 
him  on. 

Howard's  ardent  young  gaze  penetrated  deeper  into 
hers. 

"I'd  rather  sit  here  and  talk  to  you  than  do  any- 
thing else  in  the  world,"  he  told  her. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moment  to  both  of  them.  The 
music,  the  lights,  the  soft  summer  air — all  were  just 
right.  Nita  gazed  absorbedly  back  into  his  face. 

"That's  the  first  compliment  you've  ever  paid  me," 
she  said.  Then  her  absorption  in  him  came  into  her 
consciousness,  making  her  warm  all  over.  She  felt 


70  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

self-conscious,  but  held  to  her  poise.    "And — I'm  get- 
ting all  red  about  it,  too,"  she  went  on  humorously. 

They  both  laughed,  but  behind  Howard's  laugh 
there  was  the  satisfaction  of  the  intense,  sincere  com- 
pliment he  felt  the  remark  to  be.  His  gaze  held  hers 
with  something  of  a  challenge. 

VI 

The  music  stopped  abruptly.  An  agile  young  man 
had  climbed  off  the  platform  up  on  the  roof  of  the 
band-stand  stage.  Clad  in  white  so  that  he  could  be 
seen,  silhouetted  against  the  night  sky,  he  pranced 
along  the  roof.  Along  the  walls  of  the  building  lining 
the  enclosed  gardens  he  ran,  stepping  highly  to  the 
roof  toward  the  front  which  enclosed  the  winter  gar- 
den of  the  establishment,  where  he  executed  a  little 
dance,  and  was  joined  by  an  equally  fearless  young 
woman.  Perilously  they  dodged  in  and  out,  lost  to 
sight  behind  chimneys  for  some  moments  only  to  re- 
appear to  caper  more.  Suddenly  the  man  seized  her 
in  his  arms  and  swung  her  round  with  her  body  at 
right  angles  to  his.  As  they  were  spinning  the  third 
time  he  apparently  lost  his  grip  and  her  body  went 
skimming  through  the  air  and  landed  with  a  soft  thud 
on  the  pavement. 

A  long  drawn  shivering  "o-oh"  went  through  the 
crowd, 'and  the  dance  music  started  up  as  everyone 
realized  that  a  dummy  had  been  thrown  and  it  was 
all  part  of  the  show. 

VII 

It  was  after  midnight  when  the  car  pulled  up  at  the 
Harris  door,  but  the  lights  in  the  house  were  still 
burning  brightly. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  71 

"Wonder  what  time  Sari  got  in,"  murmured  Ward, 
sleepily,  as  they  left  the  boys. 

Mrs.  Harris,  her  head  on  the  table,  was  being  futile- 
ly  comforted  by  a  harassed  Dizzie. 

"Sari  telephoned,"  explained  Dizzy.  "She's  left 
home,  the  young  idiot.  The  Wilson  dancers  opened  at 
the  North  Shore  Hotel  tonight  and  she's  gone  with 
them.  She's  got  a  room  on  the  north  side  and  wouldn't 
tell  us  where " 

"But " 

"I  would  have  gone  right  out  there.  Oh,  what  will 
become  of  my  poor  little  girl,"  Mrs.  Harris  inter- 
rupted, hysterically.  "But  she  telephoned  too  late. 
She  waited  until  the  performance  was  over." 

"Canny  youngster,"  said  Dizzy,  with  almost  a  touch 
of  admiration  in  her  tone.  "Never  mind,  mother, 
we'll  get  her  tomorrow  and  bring  her  back. 

"She  was  heartless,  absolutely  heartless,"  said  Mrs. 
Harris,  between  sobs.  "She  wouldn't  give  me  the 
slightest  satisfaction." 

"She  promised  to  meet  you  tomorrow,  though, 
mother,"  said  Dizzy. 

"Yes,  she  said  that  if  I  would  come  down  to  the 
Palmer  House  at  four  that  she  would  talk  to  me,  but 
she  refused  to  divulge  her  address.  Think  of  me  hav- 
ing to  meet  my  own  little  daughter  in  a  hotel."  She 
dissolved  in  sobs  once  more. 

"Well,  that's  better  than  a  grocery  store,  isn't  it?" 
,said  Nita.  "Come  mother,  don't  worry  about  it.  It 
will  all  come  right  in  the  morning.  She  can't  stay 
away  over  a  night  or  two." 

"On  the  stage,"  whispered  Mrs.  Harris,  staring  past 
the  book-case  at  horrors  seen  only  by  herself,  and 
shuddering.  "My  little  Sarah  on  the  stage!  What 
would  her  father  say?" 


72  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Well,  her  father  would  say,  'what  of  it?' "  said 
Dizzy,  who  disliked  having  her  mother's  opinions, 
which  she  considered  unintelligent,  put  in  her  father's 
mouth.  "You  don't  think  father  would  have  been 
misled  by  all  this  twaddle  about  the  vice  of  the  thea- 
ter, do  you?" 

"None  of  my  children  understand  me,"  wailed  Mrs. 
Harris. 

"Poor  mother,"  said  Ward. 

" except  Ward,"  said  Mrs.  Harris.  "She  loves 

her  mother!" 


CHAPTER  X 


SARI  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  crimson  parlor  of  the 
Palmer  House  with  her  feet  unobtrusively  held  in 
fifth  position.  She  secretly  hoped  that  some  keen- 
eyed,  sophisticated  person  would  know  she  was  a 
dancer,  but  none  of  the  languid  loungers  in  the  room 
appeared  intelligent  enough  to  notice. 

Her  mother  was  late.  Her  heart  was  beating. 
Would  she  after  all  have  the  courage?  Yes,  all  she 
had  to  do  was  remember  that  her  mother's  fireworks 
were  all  humbug  and  she  could  eliminate  in  one  swoop 
her  family,  Lakeshore,  and  all  the  annoyances  that 
went  with  them. 

"There  is  nothing  the  least  bit  subtle  about  mother," 
she  thought,  as  she  relaxed  in  a  red  plush  chair.  "She 
doesn't  realize  that  I  perhaps  understand  and  know 
things.  Everything  must  be  explained  to  me,  she 
thinks.  I  must  be  on  my  guard  to  be  polite  to  her. 
But  heavens,  when  she  takes  a  key  sentence  and  de- 
velops it  in  all  her  arguments,  it's  irritating."  She  was 
addressing  an  imaginary  chum,  a  vague  man.  "Noth- 
ing can  induce  her  to  stop  talking  long  after  I've  un- 
derstood what  she  wants  to  say.  She  repeats  horribly, 
using  all  five  or  four  or  whatever  it  is  forms  of  devel- 
opment of  a  paragraph.  And  of  course  she'll  re- 
proach me  for  not  letting  her  know  about  it.  As  if 
she  would  have  considered  letting  me  go,  if  I  had 
even  hinted  to  her.  Well,  I  did  hint." 

She  saw  her  mother  coming,  worn-looking,  anxious, 

73 


74  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

sweet.  Something  tugged  at  her  heart.  Her  expres- 
sion hardened. 

"Sarah!"  Her  mother  kissed  her,  in  a  stillicide  of 
emotion. 

Sari  smiled  weakly,  in  an  effort  to  carry  off  the 
scene  with  a  high  hand,  but  her  mother's  batteries 
were  too  strong  for  her.  She  collapsed  into  a  big 
chair,  and  began  kicking  her  heels  sulkily  like  an  in- 
dignant baby. 

"Dear,  dear  little  Sarah,  don't  you  love  your 
home?"  Mrs.  Harris  began.  She  had  been  thinking 
all  night  long,  and  had  decided  to  appeal  to  Sari's  love 
for  her.  She  might  have  succeeded  except  that  the 
phrasing  reminded  Sari  of  a  story  she  had  heard  when 
she  was  twelve  years  old:  a  salvation  army  captain 
on  a  sinking  ship,  approaching  a  Frenchman,  asks, 
"My  friend,  don't  you  love  Jesus?"  "Oh,  yes,"  ex- 
claims the  Frenchman,  enthusiastically,  "Not  dese 
great  beeg  English  cheeses,  but  de  nize  Camem- 

bert "  She  laughed.  Her  mother  looked  hurt  and 

shocked  and  Sari  recovered  her  position. 

"Of  course  I  love  my  home,  mother,"  said  Sari,  "but 
I  can't  stay  there  all  my  life." 

"Not  stay  in  your  home  all  your  life?  What  is  a 
home  for?  Don't  you  intend  to  ever  have  a  home  of 
your  own?" 

They  were  bickering.  Sari  sailed  competently 
ahead. 

"I  don't  know.  I'm  going  to  work  first  and  live  my 
own  life " 

"But  on  the  stage " 

"See,  you  wouldn't  want  me  to  go  on  the  stage,  and 
so  surely,  since  I  have  chosen  the  stage  I  ought  to 
leave  home." 

"But  you  are  so  young  to  choose." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  75 

"I  should  have  been  on  two  years  ago.  I  am  not 
young " 

"Oh,  you're  a  baby,  a  pitiful  little  baby.  You 
shan't  be  away  from  home.  If  you  must  try  the  stage, 
try  it,  but  stay  at  home,  don't  live  off  among 
strangers " 

"I  can't  stay  at  home.  The  trip  is  too  long.  Why, 
I  shouldn't  be  able  to  get  the  last  train,  and  that 
means  I  would  have  to  come  all  the  way  on  the  cars. 
It  would  take  me  hours!  I  shouldn't  get  home  before 
three  or  four  in  the  morning." 

"Oh,  I  would  come  with  you.  We  could  use  a  cab. 
Sari,  you  mustn't  think  of  it,  you  must  come  home." 

"Yes,  and  have  you  begging  me  night  and  day  to  give 
up  dancing.  No  mother,  once  and  for  all  I've  broken 
away  and  I'm  not  coming  back.  I  hate  homes,  any- 
way." 

"The  home  is  the  hotbed  of  character,  dear.  It  must 
make  the  conditions  right  for  the  preparation  of  each 
tender  plant  that  later  must  take  its  chances  under 
God's  open  sky.  The  time  has  not  yet  come  for  you. 
You  are  so  young.  I  don't  want  to  force  your  develop- 
ment, nor  to  retard  it,  nor  yet  to  pervert  it.  I  am  not 
trying  to  make  a  fuchsia  out  of  a  geranium — if  you 
really  feel  that  you  must  go  on  the  stage,  it  will  all 
come  in  good  time.  But  on  the  other  hand,  the  best 
gardener  must  do  more  than  protect  the  species.  He 
must  perfect  species." 

"Mother,  I  am  not  a  little  plant,"  said  Sari,  im- 
patiently. "And  as  for  your  pruning  me  and  fostering 
me,  why  it's  simply  ridiculous.  You  are  no  more  in- 
terested in  me  as  an  individual  than  I  am  in  you.  If 
you  weren't  my  mother  you  wouldn't  feel  the  slightest 
interest  in  me.  I'm  a  little  wild  flower  in  the  garden." 

Tears  had  gathered  in  her  mother's  eyes.     "Wild 


76  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

things  are  pretty,  dear,  but  we  can't  live  wild.  I 
know  you  don't  care  for  me  a  bit,  but  I  care  for 
you " 

"Oh,  mother,  for  heaven's  sake,  of  course  I  care  for 
you.  I  said  that  I  wasn't  interested  in  you  as  an  in- 
dividual. Why  should  I  be?  We  have  no  interests  in 
common.  We  are  different  ages.  I  love  you,  but  I 
can't  live  in  the  same  house  with  you.  I  am  careless, 
even  lazy  at  times,  two  qualities  that  you  despise:  I 
am  moody,  a  fact  that  you  know  and  never  compre- 
hend. Some  of  the  plans  you  have  for  me  make  me 
open  my  eyes.  You  no  more  understand  me — and 
the  advice  you  give  me!"  Sari  cast  up  her  eyes  and 
shrugged  Frenchily. 

"But  Sari,  your  own  mother!  Can't  you  take  ad- 
vice from  your  own  mother?" 

"Why  should  your  advice  be  so  much  more  valuable 
because  you  are  my  mother?  Supposing  that  Helene 
Partridge  did  this,  and  that  her  mother  advised  her 
to  leave  home.  Would  you  expect  her  to  take  her 
mother's  advice  if  she  gave  what  you  considered  bad 
advice?" 

"Mrs.  Partridge  would  never  advise  such  a  thing. 
Besides " 

"But  supposing  she  did?" 

"But  Helene  is  ten  years  older  than  you." 

"Well,  supposing  she  were  my  age.  Now,  listen, 
mother,  and  get  this  between  the  eyes.  Answer  hon- 
estly. Supposing  that  Helene  were  my  age,  and  ex- 
actly in  my  circumstances,  and  supposing  that  her 
mother,  your  best  friend,  did  advise  her  to  go  on 
doing  as  I  am  doing!  Now  don't  say  that  she  couldn't 
be  my  age,  or  in  my  circumstances  or  that  her  mother 
wouldn't  advise  her.  I'm  asking  a  hypothetical  ques- 
tion. By  hypothesis,  she's  my  age,  and  Mrs.  Part- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  77 

ridge  advised  her  to  go  on  just  as  I'm  doing.  Now! 
Should  she  take  her  mother's  advice  or  not?" 

"Oh,  Sari,  don't  be  silly.    Come  home  with  mother." 

"Answer  my  question.  Remember  the  circum- 
stances are  the  same.  Should  she  obey  her  mother, 
giving  advice  that  you  consider  wrong  or  should  she 
go  home  as  you  want  me  to  do?" 

"If  her  circumstances  were  the  same,  she  should  go 
home  with  her  mother.  Sari,  let's  not  waste  time " 

"Then,  you  admit  yourself  that  if  a  mother  advises 
a  daughter  wrongly,  a  daughter  should  use  her  own 
judgment?  Just  the  fact  that  a  woman  is  a  mother 
doesn't  give  her  the  wisdom  of  Solomon.  If  you 
weren't  my  mother  you  wouldn't  dream  of  forcing  an 
opinion  on  me  as  to  what  is  best  for  me." 

"Oh,  Sari,  a  mother  always  knows  what  is  best  for 
her  own  daughter." 

"How?" 

This  question  brought  Mrs.  Harris  up  emotionally, 
as  a  sharp  pull  on  a  bridle  will  bring  a  horse  to  a 
stop.  She  sputtered  for  a  moment,  and  then  lost  her- 
self in  tears.  "How?  Why — why-wh-wh —  she  just 
knows!  Oh,  what  shall  I  do?  My  baby!" 

Sari  sighed.  After  a  moment  she  began  her  argu- 
ment again. 

"But,  don't  you  see,  mother,  if  you  were  somebody 
else's  mother " 

"Oh,  for  heaven's  sake,  Sari,  stop  reiterating  that  if 
I  were  some  one  else's  mother.  I'm  not!  I'm  your 
mother,  even  though  you  are  not  satisfied  with  me, 
the  fact  is  there." 

"I  am  satisfied  with  you,"  said  Sari,  in  an  injured 
tone.  "I  think  a  lot  of  you." 

"Then  come  home  if  you  care  anything  for  me. 
This  will  kill  me." 


78  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Oh,  mother,  you're  so  silly.  You  know  it  won't 
kill  you.  It -won't  even  affect  your  life  much.  It 
doesn't  even  have  to  make  you  unhappy  unless  you 
let  it." 

"What  will  Mrs.  Partridge  say,  and  Mrs.  Field,  and 
everybody?" 

"What  do  I  care  what  they  will  say.  You  have  too 
much  of  an  opinion  of  what  a  lot  of  addlepated  old 
frumps  think.  What  does  it  matter?" 

"The  addlepated  old  frumps  are  my  friends." 

"But  it  does  matter  to  me  whether  I  go  back  or 
not.  It  matters  a  lot.  I  won't  go  back  and  be  un- 
happy and  quarrel  with  the  girls  and  have  Ward 
vamping  all  the  men,  and  Dizzy  making  fun  of  every 
opinion  I  have,  and  everything  so  dull,  and  all  the  old 
women  in  the  place,  shaking  their  heads,  gossiping, 
acting  as  if  they  had  never  seen  a  girl's  leg  when  the 
dresses  get  short,  and  scolding  about  extremes  and 
dust  when  they  get  long.  Worth-while  men  hate  to 
come  way  out  there  in  the  country,  anyway." 

"Sari,  I'll  take  an  apartment  nearer  town  in  the 
fall,  if  you  like,  in  Kenwood,  or  on  the  near  North 
Side " 

"Oh,  mother,  I  want  to  live  by  myself " 


II 


They  quarreled  for  about  an  hour  till  both  were 

white  and  worn. 

"I  will  never  get  over  it,  if  you  leave  your  home!" 
"Oh,  yes,  you  will,  and  that's  more  than  you'll  do, 

if  I  go  back  now.    I  never  will  hear  the  last  of  it  then. 

I've  burned  my  bridges  and  I'm  not  going  to  re-build 

them.    So  goodbye,  I'm  going  now,  there's  no  use  in 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  79 

prolonging  this  moment  any  more.  Goodbye!"  She 
kissed  her  mother  and  whirled  away 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  where  you  are?  I  must 
go  with  you  and  find  out " 

"Now,  mother,  listen,"  said  Sari,  sharply.  "If  you 
follow  me  and  try  to  find  out  where  I  am  and  all  about 
me,  I  will  go  to  New  York  and  not  let  you  know  a 
thing  about  me.  I  am  all  right.  As  it  is,  I  will  call 
you  up  every  day,  and  let  one  of  the  girls  come  and 
visit  me  for  a  day  in  a  week  or  so,  maybe  Ward.  Just 
now,  I  can't  bear  to  have  anyone  come  and  see  me. 
I'm  in  a  perfectly  comfortable,  perfectly  decent 
place " 

"Sari,  dear,  but  why  can't  I  come  and  see  where?" 

"Oh,  you  can,  sometime,  but  just  now  I'm  sick  of 
all  this  bickering  and  I'm  not  going  to  have  you  fuss- 
ing over  the  plumbing  and  the  air  and  the  light,  and 
heavens  knows  what.  I  want  to  be  free.  I  want  to  be 
by  myself,  and  how  can  I  be,  if  you  and  the  girls  are 
dropping  in  on  me  every  other  day." 

"If  you'd  let  Nita  or  Ward  come  and  stay  with 
you?" 

"There!  What  did  I  say?  The  first  thing  you 
want  to  do  is  spoil  everything  for  me.  I  want  to  be 
alone,  and  away  from  my  family.  I've  seen  them  all 
my  life  and  I  want  to  see  what  it's  like  to  live  without 
them." 

"Sari,  you  are  a  cruel  heartless  girl,  and  when  you 
have  a  daughter  of  your  own  you  will  see.  And  all  I 
hope  is  that  you  never  suffer  what  I  am  suffering." 

"Mother,  I  really  must  go.  It's  a  farce,  really.  You 
have  three  other  daughters " 

"But  I  need  you." 

"What  for?    I  only  create  discord.    It  is  better  for 


80  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

me  to  take  myself  off.  This  is  the  most  painless  way. 
You  are  all  happier." 

"If  I  had  only  known.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that 
you  were  discontented  and  unhappy  at  home.  There 
is  nothing  I  wouldn't  do  for  any  one  of  you." 

"Oh,  I  did  tell  you.  All  the  girls  are  selfish  and 
absorbed  in  their  own  affairs.  No  one  at  home  under- 
stands me " 

"And  you  think  you  will  find  some  one  outside  the 
home  to  understand  you?" 

"I  need  no  one.  I  understand  myself.  I  can  be 
happy  alone,  but  I  cannot  be  happy  in  the  bosom  of 
my  family.  I  know  that  sounds  cold-blooded,  but  I 
am  eighteen.  I  have  a  right  to  life  and  a  chance  to 
stand  alone.  I  need  to  get  out  in  the  world  for  my 
own  development.  I  am  earning  forty  dollars  a  week, 
and  that  is  enough  for  any  one  to  live  on!" 

"Money!  I'm  not  worried  about  money.  I  can  let 
you  have  some,  if  you  wish.  It's  the  thought  of  my 
little  daughter  alone  in  a  big  city,  full  of  strangers." 

"Mother,  darling,  I  really  must  go.  You  make  me 
laugh.  Go  back  and  pull  that  before  the  Lakeshore 
Woman's  Club,  they  will  appreciate  it." 

This  time  she  turned  and  ran,  leaving  her  mother 
weeping  on  a  gaudy  red  plush  chair. 

"And  to  think  I  spent  my  honeymoon  here,"  said 
Mrs.  Harris  to  herself  and  began  a  long,  luxurious, 
emotional  debauch. 

Ill 

When  Mrs.  Harris  brought  the  news  home  Ward 
wept.  Drawing  close  to  her  mother,  she  consoled  her 
in  every  way  she  could;  imagining  reasons  of  a  high 
and  noble  nature  to  excuse  Sari.  Nita,  slightly  an- 
noyed because  of  the  upset  to  the  household,  spoke  of 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  81 

it  only  when  Ward  or  her  mother  tended  to  give  it 
a  tragical  dignity;  then  she  called  it  a  schoolgirl 
escapade. 

Mrs.  Harris  wondered  what  people  were  saying. 
Not  that  it  mattered  to  her  now,  she  said,  laying  great 
stress  on  the  last  word. 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  talk  to  you,  Ward?" 

"Of  course  not,  mother,  dear.    What  is  it?" 

"Do  you  remember  the  little  blue  apron  Sari  wore 
to  school  the  first  day  she  ever  went?" 

"The  one  with  the  white  organdy  strings?" 

"Yes  ...  I  have  ...  I  have  got  that  dress 
yet.  It's  at  the  bottom  of  the  big  brown  trunk  in  the 
attic  .  .  ."  There  was  a  pause.  Then  Mrs.  Harris 
broke  down.  "I  don't  think  I  can  stand  it." 

Nita  interrupted: 

"Now  mother,  stop  fretting  about  Sari.  There's 
no  use " 

"Fretting!  .  .  .  When  my  little  girl  has  gone 
from  me?" 

"Well,  look  at  it  reasonably.  It's  a  great  bore,  of 
course,  but  there  is  no  great  harm  done.  Let  her  get 
a  taste  of  it.  She'll  come  home  all  right.  The  thing 
now  is  to  put  a  face  on  it  for  the  neighbors.  Let  them 
know  that  you  approve." 

"Yes,  I  must  do  that,"  said  Mrs.  Harris.  "Oh,  what 
a  position  she  has  put  me  in.  I  shall  have  to  pretend 
to  sanction  stage  life.  And  then  the  horrible  tempta- 
tions  " 

"Nonsense.  Stage  life  isn't  as  bad  as  you  think, 
mother." 

"My  child,  you  know  nothing  of  life." 

"Mother  dear,"  said  Ward.  "I  think  perhaps  times 
have  changed.  Even  the  nicest  girls  go  on  the  stage 
now.  The  daughter  of  Professor  Handbook  is  in  the 


82  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

same  bunch  with  Sari,  I  think.    You  remember  Pro- 
fessor and  Mrs.  Handbook  at  the  University." 

"Dear,  dear.  Poor  Doctor  Handbook  and  Mrs. 
Handbook  certainly  have  my  sympathy!" 

Tears  rose  like  bubbles  on  boiling  water. 

"No  one  thinks  a  thing  about  it,  mother  dear.  You 
can  tell  Mrs.  Partridge  and  all  the  rest  of  them  that 
you  approve  Sari's  actions.  And  that  in  these  days 
a  girl  has  a  right  to  develop  herself." 

"Yes,  but  on  the  stage!  Why  couldn't  she  have 
gone  to  the  normal  college  and  become  a  teacher  like 
Drusilla  Drudan  if  she  wanted  to  develop  herself." 

"Oh,  mother,  can  you  imagine  any  of  us  teaching 
school?" 

"I  don't  see  why  not.  It's  certainly  respectable 
enough.  I  wish  I  had  been  stricter  with  all  of  you. 
Oh,  why  did  I  ever  consent  to  her  studying  dancing  at 
all.  Why?  Why?  Why?" 

"Well,  it's  done  now,  mother,"  said  Anita.  "Sari 
is  a  silly  little  idiot,  of  course,  but  there  is  no  helping 
that.  It  is  cruel  of  her  not  to  let  us  know  where  she 
is,  however.  We'll  have  to  tell  people  that  we  do 
know." 

"I'm  not  going  to  stand  it;  I'm  going  to  do  some- 
thing!" Mrs.  Harris  looked  ahead  of  her  with  deter- 
mination in  dizzy  circles  singing  around  her  head. 

"Good  for  you,  mother,"  called  Dizzy  from  the 
porch.  "Why  don't  you  go  up  there  with  the  police 
and  stop  the  performance?" 

"Elizabeth!  I  could  never  create  a  scandal  like 
that!" 

"No,  of  course  not.  Now  let's  be  reasonable  and 
stop  fussing,  all  of  us.  This  experience  may  do  Sari 
some  good.  She's  simply  chuck  full  of  silly  ideas.  I 
say,  let  her  alone.  Don't  cause  a  scandal  we'll  all  be 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  83 

sorry  for.  Just  smile  and  tell  the  truth  about  her  to 
people.  No  one  will  ask  for  her  address,  anyway.  It 
isn't  as  if  everyone  didn't  know  all  about  Sari.  If  she 
chooses  to  go  on  the  north  side  under  the  chaperonage 
of  Carlotta  Wilson  and  her  mother  -  " 

"Does  her  mother  chaperon  the  girls?" 

"Certainly.  Carlotta  Wilson  never  goes  anywhere 
without  her  mother.  And  the  girls  in  the  group  will 
all  be  well  taken  care  of.  You  can  count  on  that.  And 
then  Barbara  Handbook  being  in  the  bunch,  too, 
makes  it  really  quite  all  right.  Good  heavens!  It's 
not  like  the  stage,  anyway.  It's  more  of  a  lark  than 
anything  else.  It's  only  appearing  at  a  hotel." 

"It's  a  public  appearance  for  money,"  said  Mrs. 
Harris,  but  her  voice  was  several  degrees  more  cheer- 
ful. She  went  out  on  the  porch  to  reproach  Dizzy  for 
having  suggested  the  police. 

"She's  taking  her  medicine,"  said  Ward.  "But  the 
way  she  does  it  scares  me.  She  just  tiptoes  around  the 
house  as  if  there  was  a  funeral.  And  the  way  she 
smiles  and  tries  to  be  cheerful  is  enough  to  break  your 
heart." 

"Ward,  you  always  have  been  hoodwinked  terribly 
by  mother." 


Among  the  clans  of  Lakeshore  intense  inward  glad- 
ness shone,  as  the  news  was  squirted  about  that  Sari 
Harris  had  actually  gone  on  the  stage. 

Though  every  girl  in  Lakeshore  who  heard  the  news 
was  secretly  discontented  and  unhappy  under  her 
mother's  domination,  there  was  not  one  who  did  not 
feel  a  new  spurt  of  self-respect  at  her  own  heroism  in 
staying  at  home. 


84  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

t 

But  if  the  daughters  inwardly  rejoiced,  the  mothers 
openly  told  how  glad  they  were  that  their  own  daugh- 
ters were  not  fools,  and  pitied  poor  dear  Mrs.  Harris, 
who  was  such  a  wonderful  mother,  and  who  had  such 
a  marvelous  spirit. 


CHAPTER  XI 


THE  SUMMER  routine  went  on  as  usual.  Nita  and 
Ward  swam  and  danced  and  walked  and  played  tennis 
in  their  leisure  hours  with  Howard  and  Rod.  Dizzy 
studied.  Mrs.  Harris  attended  to  her  neighborhood 
activities.  Sari  telephoned  every  day,  but  refused  to 
disclose  the  location  of  her  room. 

August  slipped  by,  and  Nita  prepared  for  New 
York,  and  Dizzy  for  boarding  school.  They  were  to 
take  the  same  train  east.  Dizzy  had  to  go  early  for 
her  examinations,  and  so  they  were  planning  to  leave 
the  first  week  in  September. 

Shopping  and  sewing  for  them  occupied  the  days 
of  Ward  and  her  mother,  whose  constant  refrain  was, 
"I  don't  know  what  we're  going  to  do  without  you 
girls,"  and  "the  place  won't  be  the  same."  Nita  lis- 
tened politely,  Dizzy  abstractedly,  both  equally  bored, 
both  murmuring  meaningless  phrases  in  return. 
Ward  and  Mrs.  Harris  talked  of  nothing  else. 

II 

One  Sunday  afternoon  late  in  August,  Ward  came 
to  Nita,  reading  in  the  porch  swing.  She  was  agitated, 
almost  unpoised.  She  fidgeted. 

"Nita,  dear." 

"Yes." 

"There's  something  I've  been  wanting  to  talk  to  you 
about.  You  see  I  don't  quite  know  what  to  think — 

85 


86  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

what  to  do — in  a  way  it  seems  as  if  I  ought  not  to  let 
anyone  know  Rod's  feelings — and  yet — and  yet — I'm 
so  worried.  I  must  have  advice." 

The  story  came  fluently  enough  with  frequent  sym- 
pathetic interjections  from  Nita. 

"We  were  out  walking,  and  I  noticed  a  peculiar  ex- 
pression on  his  face  when  I  suggested  that  we  go  and 
sit  on  the  pier.  I  thought  perhaps  he  might  be  in- 
tending to  try  to  kiss  me,  and  I  didn't  like  it  very 
well — I  mean,  lately  he  has  kept  trying  and  trying  to 
do  different  things  like  that. 

"But — there  was  a  silence.  He  had  been  telling 
about  his  work  in  the  steel  mills — the  grubby  job  he 
is  holding  now  promises  something  in  the  future.  But 
he  could  go  home  and  run  his  father's  store  in  that 
horrid  little  town  he  comes  from,  and  be  a  high 
monkey-monk.  Suddenly  he  said  in  his  regular  voice 
as  if  he  were  talking  about  the  weather:  'It  makes  it 
doubly  hard  to  decide,  Ward,  because  you  see,  I  love 
you  and  I  want  you '  " 

"My  dear!" 

"Yes,  he  did,  he  said  it  just  like  that.  I  don't  know 
what  else  he  said.  He  started  to  rave.  I  was  stunned, 
positively  stunned.  I  never  thought  of  such  a  plain 
sudden  blurting  out  like  that " 


"How  positively  thrilling.    I  wish  Howard- 


"It  sort  of  thrills  me  now  to  think-  of  it.  But  at  the 
time  I  could  only  stroke  his  hand  and  say  nothing.  I 
could  only  sit  and  wonder  because  none  of  his  ravings 
seemed  to  touch  me.  It  seemed  so  unreal,  so  im- 
possible." 

"Oh,  but  Ward,  you've  had  so  many  boys  crazy 
about  you.  I  should  think  that " 

"But  none  of  them  were  ever  like  this.  They  were 
all  just  boys  and  I  knew  they  would  get  over  it,  but 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  87 

with  Rod  it's  different.  It's  serious.  Once,  right  after 
I  first  met  him  I  had  the  strongest  feeling  that  I'd 
better  stop  seeing  him.  That  I  was  going  to  hurt  him 
horribly.  A  voice  seemed  to  say  to  me,  'you'd  better 
let  that  man  alone/  " 

"How  interesting  and  weird.  But  don't  you  think 
you'll  marry  him?  Honestly  Ward,  I  think  he's  great. 
I  don't  see  what  more  you  could  want.  And  then,  too, 
he  seems  to  be  your  type  of  man." 

"I  do  like  him,  Nita,  I  like  him  a  lot.  I  like  him 
and  respect  him  so  much  that  I  hate  to  hurt  him.  But 
about  love,  I  don't  know.  I  don't  love  him.  I  don't 
love  anybody.  At  times  he  thrills  me  almost  unbear- 
ably. And  I  don't  know — he  seems  to  be  clean  and 
honorable  and  strong  all  right — like  the  little  Colonel's 
father  said  her  husband  must  be " 

"I  think  that  was  wonderful  that  silver  yardstick 
business  in  the  'Little  Colonel'  "  said  Nita.  "I  always 
think  of  that  myself.  I  think  Howard  measures  up, 
all  right,  don't  you?" 

"Oh  yes!  Yes,  indeed.  Rod  said  to  me  at  the  last, 
'You  see,  dear,  I  trust  you  completely.  I  have  placed 
myself  in  your  power.'  Oh  Rod,  Rod,  I'm  so  sorry 
for  you.  You  see  if  he  stays  on  here  it's  possible  that 
he  may  work  in  at  a  certain  mill  in  the  east  and  get  a 
chance  to  become  a  rich  man.  And  if  he  goes  now, 
it's  just  being  a  small- town  person,  and  not  amount- 
ing to  much  in  the  world.  But  if  he  stays  here  it's 
just  going  to  keep  on  getting  worse  and  worse  until  it 
gets  to  be  part  of  him.  He  says  it's  part  of  him  now." 
"Don't  you  really  think  you  will  marry  him?" 
"I  don't  know.  I'm  to  give  him  his  answer  tonight. 
I  promised,  but  I  can't  somehow  make  up  my  mind. 
He  told  me  that  he  was  my  slave,  that  he  would  do 


88  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

exactly  as  I  said;  and  think  of  the  awful,  frightful 
responsibility  .  .  ." 

"He  might  make  you  care,  even  if  you  don't  love 
him  now!" 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  think.  The  truth  is  I  want  him 
to  stay  and  play  with  me.  I  like  to  take  hold  of  his 
hand  because  it  gives  me  the  feeling  that  we're  both 
so  beautiful.  It  was  wonderful  last  night  in  a  way, 
the  moonlight  by  the  lake,  and  somehow  there  was 
the  water  so  big  and  mysterious,  giving  out  something 
warm  and  luminous,  and  the  sky  like  a  little  house 
keeping  us  cozy  and  sheltered.  .  .  ." 

"You  do  love  him!" 

"I  don't  know.  I  don't  know.  If  he  were  the  right 
one,  wouldn't  I  know  at  once?" 

"The  prince?  Mother's  prince.  Do  you  believe  in 
him?" 

"Nita,  I  do.    I  do.    Don't  you?" 

"Yes."  In  a  way  Nita  did.  She  was  not  wholly 
untruthful. 

"I  must  be  wise.  I  must  decide.  Oh  Nita,  Nita, 
how  can  I  be  big  enough  and  wise  enough  to  decide?" 

Ill 

Rod  had  an  armful  of  gladioli,  the  color  of  deli- 
cate coral.  He  followed  Ward  into  the  house 
self-consciously.  His  way,  his  air,  his  manner,  his 
graceful  body  attitudes  were  not  potent  enough  to  con- 
ceal his  hopeful  embarrassment.  Mrs.  Harris  cor- 
nered him  and  rendered  him  nearly  imbecile  by  relat- 
ing a  long  involved  story.  Ward,  after  she  had  ar- 
ranged the  flowers  in  a  huge  vase,  took  an  armchair 
which  domineered  the  room;  a  point  of  vantage  which 
she  occupied  with  sufficient  demureness. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  89 

They  got  up  and  stumbled  out  finally.  Rod  had 
the  impression  that  Mrs.  Harris  was  still  going  on 
and  on  as  they  left.  They  walked  to  the  beach  with- 
out exchanging  a  word. 

He  caught  her  arm.  "Oh,  Ward,  you  are  so  silent  T 
It  makes  me  afraid,  it  makes  me  afraid!" 

The  timbre  of  his  voice  plunged  and  somersaulted 
through  her  as  if  she  were  liquid.  She  turned  her 
warm,  astonished,  imploring  eyes  up  to  him  in  a  short 
look  that  made  him  faint.  An  impetus  at  once  terrify- 
ing and  exhilarating  merged  them.  A  kiss.  A  long 
breath  died  in  words  and  phrases  of  endearments,  and 
Ward  was  transcended  to  a  cloud  touched  with  the 
gold  and  pink  of  sunset.  In  the  warm  radiance  of  a 
new-found  emotion  she  could  no  longer  feel  her  body. 

They  separated  and  without  touching  dropped  down 
side  by  side  on  the  small  stones  at  the  water's  edge. 
Silently  they  stared  into  what  seemed  like  the  world's 
end,  the  black  nothing  of  night  and  water. 

"That  was  rather  sudden."  His  strain  to  be  matter 
of  fact  gave  his  voice  an  edge  of  desperation.  "Oh 

Ward,  you're  so  wonderful.  You're ."  He  drew 

her  close  again. 

A  dazed  sense  of  diffusion  had  been  taking  posses- 
sion of  her.  In  his  arms  she  sank  safely  again  to 
golden  reality. 

"I  didn't  think  it  would  be  like  that." 

"Why,  darling?" 

"I'm  so  surprised.  I  feel  strange.  You  see  I've 
never  kissed  any  one  before." 

"You're  so  marvelous,  so  unlike  other  girls — a  girl 
in  an  old  old  story " 

"Never,  never  before,  and  I  didn't  think  I  ever 
would." 

"Would    what,    dearest?"     Soft    as    the    caressing 


90  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

waters  on  the  smooth  sands  his  lips  touched  her  hair, 
her  face,  her  neck.  "Sweet,  sweet  sweetheart,  what?" 

"Kiss  anybody." 

"Not  even  me?"  He  was  already  fatuously  as- 
sured. "Didn't  you  think  that  some  day  you'd  meet 
somebody  like  me,  didn't  you?" 

"Yes,  but  I  never  thought  I'd  kiss  him.  Anyway 
not  just  at  first.  I  sort  of  thought  he'd  kiss  me,  and 
now  I've — " 

"Do  it  again." 

And  the  rainbow  moments  slipped  by,  merging  and 
changing  like  a  sunset  until  they  were  a  steady  golden 
glow  of  remembrance. 

IV 

Rumors  of  various  disagreeable  sorts  floated  around 
the  neighborhood  about  Sari.  Mr.  William  Wicker  in 
calling  on  Mary  Field  one  night  told  the  story  of  his 
meeting  with  Sari  on  the  beach  in  the  dark.  Said 
Mary  to  Nita: 

"You  know  I've  always  felt — I  don't  want  to  say 
anything  about  your  sister,  Nita  dear,  because  I  think 
as  much  of  Sari  as  anyone.  But  you  know  she  did  get 
books  out  of  the  library  by  De  Maupassant,  that 
awful  French  writer,  and  read  them.  You  know, 
there's  no  harm  in  that  sort  of  thing,  really.  I'm  aw- 
fully broad-minded  about  it.  But  I  do  feel  that  my 
own  mind  is  much  purer  than  Sari's  on  that  account, 
and  then  the  other  night  Mr.  Wicker  said  a  few 
things  that  made  me  think  Sari  really  had  been  care- 
less." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Well,  nothing  much,  only  that  I  think  a  girl  has  to 
be  awfully  careful  or  a  man  will  think  she  isn't  quite 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  91 

womanly.  I  think  she  has  given  Mr.  Wicker  that 
impression.  Of  course  I  told  him  that  Sari — " 

"Mary,  I'll  tell  you  something.  Whatever  Bill 
Wicker  said  about  my  sister  is  not  true.  It's  nothing 
but  spite.  He  has  fairly  pursued  Sari  with  invitations. 
He  has  begged  her  time  and  time  again  to  let  him 
come  over.  I  know  that.  Why  Sari  would  no  more 
waste  a  moment's  time  on  him  than — " 

Nita  was  rarely  so  untactful  as  to  hint  that  a  man 
whom  Mary  had  allowed  to  come  and  see  her  was  not 
welcome  at  the  Harris  home.  But  she  was  thoroughly 
angry.  An  attack  on  her  clan  was  an  indirect  attack 
on  herself.  They  parted  rather  coolly  soon  afterward 
and  Nita  hastened  home  to  tell  Ward  about  it. 

Ward,  more  moved  than  Nita,  clenched  her  fists  and 
said  that  if  she  were  a  man  she  would  shoot  Wicker. 
Her  inner  nature,  laid  bare  by  the  new  conscious- 
ness of  herself  as  the  heroine  of  what  she  called  the 
oldest  story  in  the  world,  was  exposed  to  the  darts 
of  all  emotions.  Anger  took  possession  of  her  readily 
— she  was  eager  for  a  plot  to  unfold  that  she  might 
thwart  the  villain  since  she  had  already  won  the  hero. 
Since  Rod's  kiss  the  night  before  she  had  been  tip 
toe  on  the  summit  of  all  the  emotions  she  had  ever 
dreamed.  And  now  she  felt  herself  to  be  supremely 
the  master,  not  only  of  her  own  destiny,  but  of  all 
young  girls.  A  melodramatic  conversation  with  her- 
self— she  would  take  Wicker  away  from  those  foolish 
girls  he  was  playing  about  with,  and  make  him  fall  in 
love  with  her.  Then  she  would  laugh  at  him  and  scorn 
him  and  send  him  away  broken — sent  her  to  the  tele- 
phone. She  invited  him  to  call  that  night. 

He  came.  The  little  living  room  back  of  the  draw- 
ing room,  seemed  to  shrink  under  the  expansion  of  his 
conceit.  He  made  love  to  Ward  in  his  usual  desultory 


92  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

way,  but  he  did  not  get  caught.  He  was  too  canny, 
his  emotions  were  too  fishlike  for  him  to  fall  over- 
whelmingly as  Ward  had  hoped. 

It  was  the  day  after  she  had  kissed  Rod. 

"By  the  way,  Rod  left  for  the  east  tonight,"  said 
Wicker. 

"The  east?" 

"Yeah.  A  telegram  came  and  he  dashed  his  clothes 
in  a  bag  and  beat  it." 

"You  mean  he  went  home?" 

"I  dunno.  He  didn't  confide  in  me.  Guess  he 
didn't  care  so  much  about  having  you  call  me  up." 

A  sharp  pang  struck  through  her.  That  Rod  would 
resent  Bill  Wicker's  call  had  not  occurred  to  her. 
Surely,  surely  he  had  understood.  The  prince  of  the 
love  legend  always  understood  everything.  It  was 
impossible  for  her  to  believe  that  he  had  left  without 
seeing  her. 

"You  mean  he  is  going  away.    He  hasn't  gone  yet?" 

"I  mean  he's  gone.  I  saw  him  hop  in  the  taxi  my- 
self. He  took  the  train  at  South  Chicago.  I  heard 
him  calling  on  the  telephone." 

"Oh,  but  he's  coming  back,  isn't  he.  Perhaps  the 
steel  company  sent  him  down  to  Gary  on  business  or 
something." 

Wicker  snorted.  "Say!  You  must  think  he's  pres- 
ident of  the  company.  Let  me  tell  you  he's  no  Judge 
Gary.  That  job  he's  got  doesn't  throw  him  into  a  slew 
of  important  conferences." 

Ward  put  a  loud  record  on  the  victrola  to  silence 
Wicker  so  she  could  think.  What  did  it  mean?  A 
telegram,  a  hasty  departure,  and  no  message.  Per- 
haps he  had  tried  to  telephone  and  the  line  was  busy. 
Then  why  didn't  he  just  come  over?  Perhaps  he 
didn't  have  time.  Oh,  he  could  have  found  time.  Was 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  93 

he  angry  because  she  had  called  up  Bill?  If  that  was 
so  he  had  no  right  to  be  angry.  He  ought  to  trust 
her.  But — but — her  mind  was  in  a  disorder  of  sur- 
prise and  conjecture,  and  the  weighted  ache  in  her 
breast  grew  heavier  to  carry  every  minute. 


Nita's  affair  just  escaped  a  successful  climax. 

Toward  the  last  of  the  summer  she  saw  Howard 
every  night,  talked  to  him,  listened  to  his  views  on 
love,  marriage,  and  other  emotions  and  institutions. 
They  discussed  ideas  impersonally,  as  if  neither  had 
a  direct  interest  in  the  other's  future.  They  planned 
their  own  home  without  admitting  to  each  other  that 
they  were  thinking  of  living  in  it  together.  Howard 
had  very  definite  notions  about  everything  pertaining 
to  matrimony,  from  the  position  his  wife  would  hold 
in  the  family  to  the  location  of  the  ice-box  in  the  kit- 
chen. He  told  Nita  all  these  things,  but  never  pro- 
posed to  her. 

He  left  for  the  west  three  days  before  Nita  was  to 
depart  for  New  York.  As  he  took  a  midnight  train, 
he  ordered  a  taxi  to  come  to  the  Harris  home  at  eleven- 
fifteen.  They  spent  their  last  evening  together  walk- 
ing by  the  lake,  talking  vaguely  of  their  future,  ex- 
changing shy  compliments.  At  eleven  they  came  back 
to  the  house  and  sat  down  on  the  porch.  Howard's 
bags  were  piled  in  one  corner. 

"I  sure  have  seen  a  lot  of  you  this  summer." 

"Wonder  when  we'll  meet  again?"  A  heavy  feeling 
was  beginning  in  Nita's  breast.  She  had  thought  he 
would  surely  propose  on  this  last  night.  "Probably 
never." 

"Oh  yes,  we  will.    We'll  meet  again,  all  right." 


94  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"When  we're  old.    Won't  it  be  funny." 

A  cab  turned  the  corner  and  stopped  in  front  of  the 
house. 

"There's  my  taxi.  Say,  Nita  I've  got  to  go.  Say 
listen,  don't  you  worry  about  our  not  seeing  each 
other  again.  We  will  alright.  And  it  won't  be  long. 
Listen,  you'll  write  lots." 

His  eyes  were  eager  and  shining.  If  he  would  only 
say  something  about  marriage.  She  felt  herself  to  be 
hanging  her  whole  personality  about  his  neck.  He 
couldn't  go. 

He  came  close  and  looked  down  at  her  in  silence. 

"Goodbye,"  he  said  in  a  choked  voice.  He  was  go- 
ing to  kiss  her.  She  didn't  move.  He  bent.  The  taxi 
gave  a  snort.  He  started,  dropped  his  kiss  on  the  end 
of  her  nose,  stumbled  over  his  bags,  knocked  his  hat 
off  over  the  banister,  cursed  silently  to  himself, 
picked  up  his  bags,  recovered  his  hat,  and  trudged  up 
the  walk  to  his  taxi. 

"Goodbye,"  called  Nita. 

"Goodbye.  Say,  Nita,  you'll  have  a  lot  of  patience, 
won't  you?" 

"Yes." 

The  taxi  chugged  off. 


VI 


Mrs.  Partridge  and  Helene,  Mrs.  de  Remy  and  lit- 
tle Paul,  Mrs.  Field  and  Mary,  were  to  assist  the  Har- 
ris family  in  seeing  Nita  and  Dizzy  safely  off  for  the 
east. 

Sari  telephoned  and  promised  to  come  and  see  them 
off  too.  So  they  were  looking  forward  to  seeing  her. 

And  when  they  had  almost  given  her  up  she  came 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  95 

rushing  into  the  station  attended  by  a  very  beautiful 
Jewish  boy  of  about  her  own  age. 

There  was  just  time  to  kiss  Nita  and  Dizzy  when 
the  train  pulled  out.  Then  Ward  turned  and  hugged 
Sari. 

"It's  nice  to  see  you.  I'm  almost  glad  you  went 
away  because  seeing  you  now  helps  make  up  for  los- 
ing Dizzy  and  Nita." 

"Ward,  you're  a  dear.  I  believe  I  have  missed  you. 
You're  the  only  one,  though." 

"Mother.    You  must  have  missed  mother!" 

"Oh  Ward,  you  darling  stupid.  Her,  least  of  all. 
Here,  I  want  to  present  Cecil  to  you."  She  called  the 
dark-eyed  youth  and  introduced  him  to  her  mother  and 
Ward  with  an  air  of  pride  as  Mr.  Cecil  De  Jonghe. 

"But  Sari,"  said  her  mother  in  a  nervous  undertone, 
while  Ward  was  talking  to  the  boy,  "isn't  he  Jewish?" 

"Really,  I  don't  think  I've  ever  asked  him,"  said 
Sari. 

"Well,  I  hope  he's  not,"  said  Mrs.  Harris  fervently. 
"How  long  have  you  known  him." 

"Oh  ages."  Sari's  manner  took  on  a  brilliant  vague- 
ness like  the  reflection  of  a  star  in  a  moving  pool. 
,  "Did  you  know  him  before  you  left  home?" 

"Well,  not  exactly!" 

"Not  exactly?  I  don't  understand.  You  don't 
know  a  person  exactly  or  inexactly.  Either  you  did 
or  you  didn't  know  him,  and  if  you  didn't  know  him 
you  must  have  met  him  since  you  left  home,  and  so 
you  can't  have  known  him  ages!" 

For  a  moment  Mrs.  Harris'  attention  was  distracted 
from  the  question  by  her  admiration  of  her  own  logi- 
cal reasoning.  Before  she  could  recapitulate,  Mrs. 
Partridge,  Mrs.  de  Remy  and  the  rest  of  the  horde 


96  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

from  Lakeshore  swarmed  in  and  took  possession. 
Ward  and  Sari  had  only  a  moment  for  talk. 

"Darling,  you  must  come  and  see  me  in  a  couple  of 
days.  I've  got  the  sweetest  place!  And  loads  to  tell 
you." 

"I'm  crazy  to.    Sari,  when  can  I  come?" 

"Don't  bring  mother,  and  you  must  promise  not  to 
give  me  away  unless  I  let  you,  if  I  show  you,  but  I 
am  simply  crazy  to  have  a  good  long  talk  with  you." 

"I'll  come  any  time,  Sari,  I  can  hardly  wait." 

"I'll  call  you  up." 

VII 

Ward  and  her  mother  went  sadly  back  to  Lakeshore. 
All  the  way  on  the  train  Mrs.  Harris  talked  of  how 
strange  the  house  would  seem  without  so  many  girls. 
And  over  and  over  in  Ward's  thoughts  ran  the  hope- 
ful wish  that  she  would  find  a  message  from  Rod  at 
home,  a  letter,  a  telegram,  a  telephone  call. 

But  there  was  none.  She  walked  through  the 
empty  rooms  from  which  youth  seemed  to  have  fled. 
She  was  not  going  back  to  college  that  fall.  She  would 
sit  at  home  waiting,  waiting,  while  her  mother  in  a 
hundred  little  ways  would  remind  her  of  the  love 
legend,  unconscious  that  the  hero  of  it  had  already 
come  and  gone. 


BOOK  TWO 
SARI 


CHAPTER  I 
I 

THE  quarters  in  which  Sari  had  elected  to  set  up 
her  establishment  consisted  of  the  only  "room  with  a 
bath"  in  a  small  rooming  house.  A  muddy  mustard 
colored  building,  hung  on  the  outlying  fringe  of  the 
business  district  which  surrounded  the  loop,  and  par- 
ticularly dingy  in  appearance,  even  for  Clark  street, 
it  was  necessarily  called  the  Grand  Central  Hotel. 

In  order  to  penetrate  to  her  apartment.  Sari  as- 
cended three  steps  directly  from  the  sidewalk,  un- 
locked a  door  that  stood  at  the  right  of  the  entrance 
to  the  office,  went  up  a  flight  of  stairs  and  turned  to 
the  right,  where  she  could  discover  the  knob  of  her 
door  by  feeling  around  in  a  very  dark  hallway. 

Here,  green  and  gold  heavily  bombarded  her.  In- 
tended for  the  bridal  chamber,  an  artful  effort  had 
been  made  by  Mr.  Cheez,  the  proprietor,  to  give  the 
room  the  air  of  a  parlor.  There  was  a  carpet  of  thick 
grayish  green,  lace  curtains  at  the  windows,  and  a 
solid-looking  oak  armchair.  In  spite  of  this,  however, 
the  bed  bounded  to  the  eye  first,  radiating  its  yellow 
into  the  green  and  gold  scheme — a  swell  brass  bed, 
as  Mr.  Cheez  observed.  And  all  along  the  green  walls 
wriggling  lines  of  thin  gilt  hung  down  like  starved 
snakes. 

An  extension  of  the  house  telephone  stood  just  out- 
side of  Sari's  door.  When  anyone  rang  her  up,  an 
ear-splitting  buzzing  began  at  her  door,  impelled  by 
the  colored  maid  of  the  establishment,  who  answered 

99 


100  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

all  calls.  Sari  then  flung  a  kimona  around  herself, 
being  nearly  always  in  a  state  of  undress,  when  she 
was  so  summoned,  and  ran  into  the  hall  where  she 
conversed  in  as  cryptic  a  manner  as  possible  in  order 
to  thwart  the  colored  maid,  who  always  listened  on 
the  line. 

The  colored  maid  had  a  method  peculiar  to  herself 
of  reading  hand-writing,  so  that  Sari  often  had  her 
mail  confused  with  that  of  a  person,  who  bore  the 
name  of  Miss  A.  Austine  Eisenstein.  Mr.  D.  E«  Pren- 
dergast,  a  stout  amiable  gentleman,  conscientiously 
comic,  was  always  getting  letters  which  the  colored 
maid  slipped  under  Sari's  door  under  the  delusion  that 
Prendergast  looked  like  Harris. 

Others  who  passed  daily  through  the  doors  of  the 
Grand  Central  Hotel  were  noted  by  Sari.  There  was 
a  shoe  clerk,  true  to  type  in  his  slim,  dapper,  suave 
beauty,  and  a  fat  bushy-browed  worker  in  a  mail- 
order house,  one  of  those  girls,  so  numerous  among 
the  working  women  in  large  cities,  who  having  neither 
kith  nor  kin  of  their  own,  build  from  the  people  thrown 
about  them  a  vicarious  family  whom  they  love,  con- 
fide in,  and  make  a  convenience  of. 

But  once  inside  her  door  with  the  bolt  turned,  Sari 
felt  a  new  sense  of  absolute  liberty.  She  would  bounce 
up  and  down  on  the  bed  in  her  joy  at  being  alone  and 
undisturbed. 


n 


The  Wilson  dancers  performed  on  a  runway  and 
stage  leading  out  into  Lake  Michigan  from  the  ter- 
raced dining  room  of  a  luxurious  north  side  hotel. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  101 

Lake,  sky,  and  sometimes  the  moon  made  an  effective 
back  drop  in  the  radiance  of  a  magnificent  spotlight. 
Sari  danced  as  easily  and  carelessly  before  the  au- 
dience as  she  had  done  in  the  studio. 

Opening  night  was  given  a  frill  of  excitement  by  the 
advent  of  some  reporters.  At  first  the  girls  thought 
of  themselves  as  great  actresses  besieged  by  the  press. 
When  the  reporters  asked  for  Barbara  Handbook,  who 
was  making  her  debut  as  well  as  Sari,  she  observed 
languidly,  with  heavy  ennui;  "These  newspaper  men, 
I  really  haven't  time  to  bother  with  them."  But  it  de- 
veloped that  her  father,  the  respectable  professor  from 
the  University,  had  been  arrested  on  a  charge  more 
than  ordinarily  racy  and  they  wanted  to  get  the  story 
from  her  angle.  The  Wilson  dancers  were  not  men- 
tioned in  the  account  next  day. 

Sari  enjoyed  the  rush,  the  make-up,  the  dressing- 
room  atmosphere,  even  more  than  the  performance  it- 
self. And  most  of  all  she  liked  the  new  sense  of  free- 
dom, the  feeling  that  she  could  be  out  as  much  and  as 
long  as  she  liked  without  accounting  to  a  querulous 
mother. 

Sari  was  completely  happy.  Every  night  she  came 
home,  opened  the  downstairs  inner  door  with  her 
latch  key,  and  sped  up  the  stairs  to  her  room.  Once 
inside  she  experienced  the  thrill  of  being  all  alone 
again.  Sometimes  she  stopped  at  the  Greek  restau- 
rant next  door  where  she  took  her  meals  and  had  a 
supper  before  she  went  to  bed.  She  was  never  lonely. 
In  the  morning  she  was  accustomed  to  get  up  about 
nine  o'clock  and  walk  through  Lincoln  park  before 
breakfast.  Occasionally  she  walked  along  the  lake  for 
half  an  hour  or  more  before  coming  back  to  eat. 
Afternoons  she  went  to  the  studio  to  practice. 


102  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


III 

One  morning,  when  she  had  been  enjoying  this  exist- 
ence for  a  week,  she  walked  further  than  usual  in 
the  shining  silver  sunlight.  On  Lake  Shore  drive 
she  sat  on  the  stone  steps  leading  down  to  the  lake's 
edge.  Chin  on  her  hands,  elbows  on  knees  staring 
into  the  blinding  blue,  she  became  aware  that  a  young 
man  had  been  walking  by  her  several  times.  Her 
thoughts  were  on  her  salary.  She  was  laying  it  out  in 
parcels,  making  budgets. 

When  she  looked  at  the  watch  on  her  wrist  she  saw 
that  it  was  almost  eleven  o'clock.  She  had  had  noth- 
ing to  eat.  So,  assuming  a  businesslike  carriage  she 
began  to  walk  home  hurriedly.  But  some  sixth  sense 
was  urging  her  that  there  had  been  a  young  man  in  her 
picture  for  some  time.  She  didn't  know  when  she  had 
first  known  that  he  was  there.  She  looked  over  her 
shoulder  involuntarily.  Yes,  there  was  some  one  back 
of  her.  Turning  hastily  down  a  side  street,  she  walked 
on,  but  this  time  her  thoughts  would  not  go  away 
from  the  young  man.  He  was  rather  attractively 
dressed,  she  thought,  but  at  that  distance  she  could 
not  see  his  face.  He  had  on  a  bright  tan  overcoat, 
almost  yellow,  a  black  and  white  checked  suit,  and  a 
fall  hat  of  green  pulled  rakishly  over  one  side  of  his 
face.  Yes,  on  the  whole  his  looks  appealed  to  Sari. 
She  decided  to  look  around  again. 

He  was  still  following.  At  her  second  glance  back 
he  hastened  his  footsteps  and  soon  caught  up  with 
her,  bared  his  head  gallantly  and  remarked,  that  it 
was  a  lovely  morning  for  a  stroll. 

"Don't  you  know  you  shouldn't  speak  to  strange 
young  women?"  said  Sari  severely,  glancing  at  him. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  103 

He  was  hardly  older  than  Sari  herself,  with  a  clear 
olive  skin,  great  dark  eyes,  and  black  curly  hair  that 
waved  back  from  his  forehead.  When  he  removed  his 
hat,  Sari  saw  at  once  that  he  was  Jewish. 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  declared  the  young  Jew  gal- 
lantly. "I  saw  you  on  the  beach,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  I  must  know  you;  have  followed  you  from 
Lincoln  park.  I  watched  you  sitting  by  the  lake.  I 
have  written  a  poem  about  it — see?"  He  exhibited  a 
bit  of  paper  which  Sari  took  and  examined. 

"I  don't  see  how  that's  about  me,"  she  said,  "but 
you  have  the  cock-eyed  artistic  soul.  I  feel  it.  We 
are  friends.  Something  impelled  me  to  look  around 
to  you — just  then.  Some  great  force.  My  father  was 
a  writer.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you!" 

"If  you  only  would,"  said  the  young  man  fervently. 
His  abrupt  phrases,  vaguely  foreign-sounding,  were 
peppered  with  flagrant  Americanisms,  and  his  manner 
was  intensely  that  of  the  college  boy — a  sharply  out- 
lined impersonation.  "See,  here  is  my  card."  He  took 
out  of  his  pocket  a  bit  of  pasteboard  on  which  was  en- 
graved "Mr.  Cecil  H.  De  Jonghe."  "Tell  me  all  about 
yourself,"  he  begged.  "Are  you  a  Chicago  girl?  Do 
you  live  here?  I  am  anxious  to  know." 

Here  was  an  audience  for  a  completely  new  role. 
Her  manner  became  earnest — the  serious  young  girl 
making  her  way  in  the  world.  She  seized  his  arm  and 
said  with  gusto: 

"I  am  just  going  to  have  my  breakfast.  Will  you 
come  with  me?  I  eat  at  a  little  Greek  restaurant  over 
at  the  other  side  of  the  park.  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
myself.  But  you  must  let  me  pay  for  my  own  cock- 
eyed meal.  It  is  one  of  my  principles  never  to  let 
anyone  pay  for  any  of  my  meals.  I  am  strictly  inde- 
pendent." 

Mr.  De  Jonghe  promised  reluctantly,  dreading  the 


104  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

waiters.  They  found  a  little  table,  with  the  counter 
close  by,  behind  which  white-aproned  Greeks  passed 
and  re-passed  polishing  glasses,  bringing  sandwiches 
and  soups.  He  looked  at  Sari  to  begin  the  story  of 
her  life. 

"The  soup  in  here  is  awfully  good,"  said  Sari. 
"You'd  better  have  some.  This  is  Thursday,  so  they 
call  it  spaghetti  soup.  On  Sunday  it's  chicken  soup, 
on  Monday  barley,  on  Tuesday  tomato,  on  Wednes- 
day bean,  on  Thursday  spaghetti,  on  Friday  clam,  on 
Saturday  something  else,  I  forget  what,  but  it's  all  the 
same  cock-eyed  soup.  You'd  better  try  it." 

Mr.  De  Jonghe  tried  it  and  Sari  ordered  an  enor- 
mous breakfast  with  much  energy.  "Do  you  live  all 
alone?"  asked  Mr.  De  Jonghe. 

"Yes,  I  live  all  by  myself  in  this  great  big  city.  I 
am  strictly  independent.  I  support  myself,  without 
any  help  from  my  people,  who  do  not  understand  me. 
They  wanted  me  to  go  to  college  and  cram  myself  full 
of  facts  and  vulgar  knowledge,  and  had  none  of  them 
the  slightest  conception  of  what  art  really  meant  to 
me.  I  made  up  my  mind  never  to  submit  to  them,  and 
so  I  ran  away  from  home." 

She  was  forming  her  sentences  like  his,  a  trick  of 
imitation  she  acquired  easily. 

"Poor  little  girl,"  said  Mr.  De  Jonghe.  "How  brave 
of  you!" 

"Oh  no,  it  wasn't  brave,"  said  Sari  conscious  that 
the  denial  made  her  case  for  bravery  so  much  stronger. 
"I  just  felt  that  I  had  to  go.  My  art  was  stronger 
than  I,  I  left  home  and  mother  without  the  usual  tears 
that  sentimental  girls  shed  on  leaving  home.  I  hope, 
Mr.  De  Jonghe,  that  you  are  not  a  sentimentalist." 

Good  heavens  no,  Mr.  De  Jonghe  was  not  a  senti- 
mentalist. Being  vague  in  his  mind  as  to  all  this  im- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  105 

plied,  he  replied  quickly  that  he  was  a  pianist,  study- 
ing at  a  well  known  school  on  the  North  side  but  that 
he  played  every  musical  instrument  that  he  had  ever 
attempted  with  considerable  ease. 

"Isn't  that  wonderful,"  said  Sari  with  enthusiasm. 
"By  ear?" 

"Yes.  Violin,  piano,  harp,  cornet,  banjo,  ukelele — 
anything.  I  am  studying  the  piano,  now,  though.  My 
father,  too,  wanted  me  to  go  to  college,  but  I  could 
not  see  the  use  as  I  was  anxious  to  begin  to  study  the 
piano.  So  I  came  to  Chicago — " 

"Where  is  your  home?" 

"In  St.  Louis.  I  left  my  many  friends  there.  What 
wonderful  times  we  used  to  have — "  a  short  retrospect 
seemed  to  float  before  Mr.  De  Jonghe.  He  sighed. 
Then  came  back  to  Sari's  affairs.  "But  didn't  your 
mother  dislike  it,  when  you  told  her  you  were  leaving 
her?" 

"She  couldn't  stop  me,"  Sari  replied.  "Something 
sustained  me.  The  thought  that  my  career  was  the 
thing  that  I  was  meant  for  made  me  strong  enough  to 
stand  against  her." 

"What  are  you  studying?"  asked  Mr.  De  Jonghe. 

The  question  came  as  something  of  a  shock,  a  good 
bit  of  disappointment  to  Sari.  She  had  been  secretly 
hoping  that  Mr.  De  Jonghe  would  tell  her  that  he  had 
seen  her  dance  and  had  recognized  her..  The  thought 
that  she  had  been  existing  in  his  mind  as  a  mere  stu- 
dent for  nearly  half  an  hour  annoyed  her  exceedingly. 

"Studying!  I  am  appearing  with  the  Carlotta  Wil- 
son dancers.  You  may  have  heard  of  them!" 

Mr.  De  Jonghe  had  heard  of  them.  Good  heavens, 
an  actress,  a  dancer  sat  across  the  table  from  him. 
He  trembled.  He  could  hardly  bear  to  confess  that  he 
had  never  seen  them,  but  hastily  mentioned  that  he  had 


106  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

seen  every  show  in  the  Loop,  and  had  looked  on  Ger- 
trude Hoffmann,  Pavlowa,  the  Morgan  dancers,  and 
the  Ziegfield  Follies  in  former  years. 

"A  man  doesn't  have  time  to  go  every  place  in  this 
town,  and  I've  been  intending  to  go  and  see  them,  but 
just  haven't  had  the  time.  I'll  sure  come  out  tonight, 
though." 

"I  think  you'll  enjoy  seeing  us  dance.  One  of  our 
girls  was  with  Pavlowa  a  season,  and  another  was  with 
the  Metropolitan  ballet.  They  are  all  talented  dan- 
cers. I  was  lucky  to  get  in  with  them,  but  I  have  been 
studying  with  Carlotta  Wilson  for  two  years,  and  could 
have  gone  with  her  six  months  ago,  if  my  mother  had 
not  objected." 

Mr.  De  Jonghe  stirred  his  coffee  nervously.  He 
squirmed  uncomfortably  in  his  chair  while  he  won- 
dered whether  this  wonderful  actress  had  been  snapped 
up  by  some  other  man.  Perhaps  she  was  only 
flirting  with  him.  He  hitched  forward  at  the  thought; 
would  it  be  all  right  to  enquire  whether  or  not  she  was 
engaged?  No,  that  might  look  like  a  proposal  of 
marriage.  He  knew  that  you  must  use  great  care  with 
women  or  they  snap  you  up  before  you  know  it.  He 
wondered  how  he  could  lead  the  subject  around  to  love. 
Sari  chatting  on  about  her  career  and  her  plans  was 
scarcely  heard  in  the  absorption  of  this  new  problem. 
Finally  when  she  paused  after  making  some  remark 
about  her  sisters  he  asked, 

"Are  any  of  your  sisters  married?" 

"No.  Ward,  she's  just  two  years  older  than  I  am 
has  been  engaged  I  think,  but  Nita  has  never  been  in 
love,  though  she's  awfully  old.  Way  past  twenty- 
two." 

Here  was  his  opening.    He  looked  down  at  his  plate, 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  107 

twisted  his  fork,  smiled  and  asked  as  archly  as  he 
could. 

"I  suppose  you  have  been  in  love  oodles  of  times?" 

The  archness  was  a  failure,  but  Sari  did  not  notice 
the  tenseness  in  his  manner.  She  had  worked  herself 
up  conversationally  to  a  point  where  she  was  anxious 
to  reveal  anything  that  was  suggested  to  her,  and 
more  if  possible. 

"You  see,"  she  said  kitting  her  brows  and  bending 
absorbedly  to  her  task  of  exploring  her  own  psychol- 
ogy, "I  don't  think  I  was  much  interested  in  boys 
until  I  was  about  seventeen,  then  I  decided  that  I 
would  like  to  be  popular  with  them.  So  I  tried  it  and 
I  was  quite  successful.  My  junior  year  in  high  school 
I  tore  around  with  eighteen  youngsters.  It  sounds 
ridiculous  when  I  think  of  it  now,  and  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know  how  I  ever  kept  it  up.  It  was  a  regular  game 
and  not  a  very  honorable  game  at  that.  My  health 
broke  down  under  the  strain  and  I  almost  had  to  quit 
school.  I  found  out  how  it  was  done  and  I  decided 
that  it  wasn't  much  fun  after  all.  It  has  its  disad- 
vantages. You  have  to  allow  yourself  to  be  bored 
nine-tenths  of  the  time. 

"My  next  experiment,"  continued  Sari,  neglecting 
her  food  in  the  interest  she  felt  in  her  subject,  "was 
in  making  them  fall  in  love  with  me.  It  was  fun 
thinking  of  a  system.  I  might  say  that  I  have  an 
older  sister  that  is  nearly  perfect  in  the  art,  and  by 
imitating  her  I  soon  learned  how  it  was  done.  But  I 
was  simply  overwhelmed  when  they  did  fall." 
Frankie  Field  took  on  a  faint  romantic  touch  in  her 
imagination  as  she  spoke.  "Not  one  of  them  was  any- 
thing in  my  young  life  but  even  so,  the  only  thing  that 


108  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

saved  me  from  marrying — I  was  terribly  conscience 
stricken, — was  that  I  am  not  polygamous." 

Mr.  De  Jonghe,  whose  mouth  had  dropped  open, 
did  not  tell  her  critically  that  she  meant  polyandrous. 
He  was  regarding  her  with  an  adoration  that  had  no 
time  for  such  nice  exactions.  Up  to  this  time  he  had 
believed  that  gentile  girls  had  no  morals.  The  re- 
cital of  Sari's  scruples  thrilled  him  with  the  sense  that 
he  was  becoming  a  broad-minded  man  of  the  world. 
He  understood  her  so  well. 

He  sighed. 

"My  experience  has  been  something  like  yours,"  he 
said.  "I  started  stepping  out  when  I  was  about  thir- 
teen. From  the  beginning  I  laughed  at  the  idea  of  one 
girl.  I  thought  that  association  was  the  thing.  I  have 
always  had  a  craving  for  variety,  an  acquaintance  with 
.girls  of  every  type.  It  certainly  has  been  broadening. 
Yet  I  cannot  say  whether  or  not  it  has  been  the  best 
policy  as  I  have  suffered  many  disillusionments  and 
have  lots  of  times  lost  respect  for  the  whole  species." 

"Isn't  that  dreadful,"  said  Sari,  leaning  her  head 
on  her  elbow  and  giving  him  her  whole  attention. 
"But  didn't  you  ever  fall  in  love?" 

"Naturally  I  liked  some  better  than  others,  and 
even  thought  of  marriage  in  some  cases,  but  never 
seriously.  Another  link  in  my  reasoning  is  applying 
the  old  adage  to  all  females,  it's  something  about  com- 
paring a  woman  with  a  street  car;  if  you  miss  one 
another  will  be  along  soon.  Now,  please  don't  get 
conceited  when  I  tell  you  that  you  are  the  first  girl 
in  my  experience  that  has  ever  seemed  not  to  fit 
that  old  adage.  Well,  it's  hard  to  try  and  explain  big 
things—" 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  109 


III 

The  waiter  hovered  behind  the  young  man. 

"Two  checks,"  said  Sari,  holding  up  two  fingers. 
Poor  Mr.  Cecil  De  Jonghe  reddened  to  his  ears. 
"Won't  you  let  me  pay,"  he  begged  Sari  in  a  hurried 
undertone,  but  Sari  shook  her  head. 

The  waiter,  thinking  to  help  Sari  to  get  her  dinner 
paid  for  by  shaming  the  young  man,  bent  his  head 
near  the  young  man's  ear  and  said  in  an  enquiring  tone 
and  imperfect  English,  "Two  checkka?" 

"Two  cock-eyed  checks,"  said  Sari  briskly  holding 
up  two  fingers  again  and  shaking  her  bobbed  hair 
about,  as  she  nodded  twice  emphatically.  "Oh  please," 
breathed  Mr.  De  Jonghe,  looking  down  at  his  plate  in 
shame  and  agony. 

The  waiter's  honest  Greek  face  looked  commiserat- 
ingly  at  Sari  and  he  bent  nearer  the  young  man's 
ear  and  almost  shouting,  "Two  Checks?  Two  Checks? 
No?" 

Poor  Mr.  De  Jonghe  almost  put  his  curly  head  in 
his  plate  in  his  distress,  and  desire  to  ignore  the 
waiter. 

"Two  checks,"  said  Sari  again,  triumphing  in  her 
independence.  The  waiter  shrugged,  glanced  contemp- 
tuously at  the  young  man,  lifted  his  eyes  to  heaven  to 
witness  the  meanness  of  some  young  men,  when  dining 
with  beautiful  young  girls,  and  clipped  the  two  checks 
which  he  drew  out  of  his  pocket. 

Mr.  De  Jonghe,  after  this  ordeal  felt  quite  unequal 
to  the  task  of  passing  the  Greek  at  the  counter,  when 
they  should  pay  the  checks,  and  in  his  fear  of  offend- 
ing Sari,  and  his  great  sympathy  with  her  ideals,  and 
his  enormous  respect  for  her  character  and  independ- 


110  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

ence,  suffered  acutely  for  some  moments  while  Sari 
was  imparting  further  embroidered  information. 

"I  made  up  my  mind  to  give  up  everything,  and  just 
work.  I  worked  hard  at  the  studio.  My  family  would 
have  taken  those  hard  hours  from  me,  but  I  was  able 
to  resist  their  entreaties  to  have  me  be  a  mere  doll  at 
home  and  do  nothing — " 


CHAPTER  II 


THAT  night  Mr.  De  Jonghe  made  his  appearance  at 
the  hotel  where  Sari  danced  and  waited  for  her  after- 
ward. From  that  time  it  became  his  custom  to  break- 
fast with  her  every  morning,  practice  his  piano  and 
take  his  lesson  while  Sari  worked  in  the  studio,  take 
her  to  dinner,  escort  her  to  the  hotel,  wait  for  her  and 
take  her  home. 

Sari  had  purchased  a  nile  green  gown,  which  had 
caught  her  eye  in  a  window  on  Michigan  avenue. 
There  was  a  long  tight  bodice,  of  green,  orange  and 
dull  gold  like  the  skin  of  a  brilliant  tropical  reptile. 

Clad  in  this  costume  it  became  her  nightly  habit 
after  her  part  in  the  evening's  performance  was  done 
to  appear  on  the  ball-room  of  the  hotel  at  precisely  a 
quarter  of  twelve  escorted  by  Mr.  Cecil  De  Jonghe, 
smartly  and  exquisitely  clad.  Wearing  the  most  com- 
pletely haughty  poise  ever  achieved  by  two  members 
of  the  human  race  simultaneously,  they  would  follow 
a  waiter  to  a  small  table,  and  wait  like  august  poten- 
tates for  the  music  to  start. 

Wearing  their  conception  of  themselves  as  world- 
worn  souls,  they  danced  conscientiously  until  the 
music  stopped,  and  then  climbed  on  a  bus  and  rode 
part  way  home.  A  mile  from  the  hotel,  they  generally 
got  off  and  walked,  parting  reluctantly  at  her  door 
at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Ill 


112  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


II 


One  hot  night  after  they  had  left  the  bus  they  re- 
membered the  moon  on  the  lake.  With  a  disregard 
for  park  policemen  not  usually  discovered  in  people 
of  such  amazing  worldliness  as  these  two  they  walked 
over  and  sat  down  on  the  steps  overlooking  the  lake, 
very  near  the  place  where  Mr.  De  Jonghe  had  first  set 
eyes  upon  Sari. 

"And  to  think  that  I  didn't  see  you  at  all,"  said 
Sari.  "My  what  an  age  ago  it  seems." 

"Just  three  weeks  next  Thursday,"  said  Cecil. 

"Goodness,  it  seems  longer  than  that,  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  known  you  forever." 

"Me  too.  It's  because  we've  been  together  so 
much." 

At  their  feet  the  slanting  gray  stone  break  water 
slid  imperceptibly  into  the  smooth  and  luminous  blue 
surface  of  the  sea,  with  a  slab  of  gold  laid  on  it  by  the 
rising  moon.  The  black  and  silent  park  behind  them 
lay  like  the  sleeping  coast  of  some  romantic  island  in 
the  south  seas. 

Sari  began  to  feel  drowsy. 

"Rest  your  head  on  my  shoulder,"  offered  Cecil 
earnestly. 

"It's  like  my  home.  We  always  have  the  lake.  It 
seems  like  part  of  me  sometimes,"  said  Sari.  "It  does 
to  all  of  us.  We've  lived  beside  it  so  long,  and  it 
grows  on  you  someway  so  that  you  miss  it  if  you  don't 
see  it." 

"I  sure  wish  we  could  stay  out  here  all  night." 

Sari  sat  up. 

"Well,  why  shouldn't  we?" 

Well,  really  there  was  no  reason.     Who  on  earth 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  113 

would  be  the  wiser  if  they  did  or  did  not.  Sari  set- 
tled back  comfortably  in  his  arm.  They  were  silent 
looking  at  the  moon. 

"Wonder  if  it  will  get  cold  toward  morning?" 

"You  can  have  my  coat  if  it  does!" 

Another  silence.  Sari  dozed  till  Cecil  earnestly 
kissed  a  certain  dimple  he  admired  in  her  cheek. 

"Isn't  it  great  out  here.  Why  didn't  we  think  of 
this  before." 

"I  wonder  what  time  it  is." 

"I  bet  it's  hot  over  at  the  Grand  Central."  The 
waves  lapped  very  softly  against  the  stone.  Cecil 
kissed  a  dimple  again.  A  policeman  on  a  bicycle  rode 
ponderously  past,  incongruous,  making  his  silent 
round,  tinging  their  idyl  with  the  comic.  In  the 
bushes  back  of  them  it  seemed  as  if  strange  figures 
moved. 

Resting  against  him  Sari'sl  eyes  traveled  out  into  the 
sea  where  a  lighthouse  twinkled,  blending  its  gloom 
with  the  pattern  of  the  stars;  in  the  breezeless  night 
they  seemed  to  dance,  the  only  active  things  in  the 
whole  still  world.  To  the  south,  another  white  light 
winked  off  and  on,  alternating  red.  She  fell  to  watch- 
ing it  dreamily,  counting — fifteen-sixteen-red,  one- 
two-three-four — white — she  slept. 

Cecil  held  her  tenderly,  almost  fearfully  in  his  arms. 
He  kissed  her  again  just  above  her  lips.  Long  since 
the  moon  had  left  the  sea,  and  shone  high  on  its  west- 
ward journey.  Again  the  kindly  policeman  rode  by, 
silently,  his  great  haunches  moving  rhythmically  as  he 
pedaled.  She  stirred.  "It's  getting  light— "  The  pale 
blue  attenuation  of  dawn  was  being  poured  into  the 
thick  darkness.  Out  of  the  eerie  lavender  cloudiness 
the  scene  was  taking  form. 

"Sari,  I  want  to  kiss  you  awfully." 


114  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

With  a  sudden  realization  that  her  nerves  were 
straining  for  his  arms  she  drew  him  to  her  in  a  kiss 
that  swept  through  them  like  a  draft  through  a  red 
coal  fire. 

"Oh  Sari,"  and  "Oh  Cecil." 


Ill 


She  broke  away  from  him.  "Look  it's  nearly  day." 
He  caught  her  to  him  again.  They  watched  the  mists 
clear  off  the  lake. 

"Let's  run  down  to  the  lake  and  wash  our  hands  and 
get  washed  up  for  breakfast.  What  time  is  it?" 

"It's  nearly  five." 

They  splashed  their  hands  in  the  cool  lake  water 
and  bathed  their  faces. 

"I'm  simply  cock-eyed  I'm  so  hungry.  I  wonder 
what  time  the  restaurant's  open." 

"Some  of  them  stay  open  all  night.  I  wouldn't  want 
to  go  until  after  six,  though." 

They  strolled  along  the  paved  beach. 

"Everything  is  wonderful  at  this  time  of  the  morn- 
ing," said  Sari.  "Hasn't  it  been  fun.  I  wouldn't  have 
missed  it  for  anything  in  the  world.  Poor  dear  old 
cock-eyed  mother  would  simply  stand  on  her  ear  if  she 
knew  it." 

"Older  people  are  a  bore,  sometimes,"  remarked 
Cecil.  "Not  the  slightest  possible  harm  in  our  stay- 
ing out  all  night,  only  every  one  would  lift  up  their 
hands  in  horror  if  they  knew  it." 

"Let's  play  ball,"  proposed  Sari.  "Let's  roll  up  our 
handkerchiefs  and  play  ball." 

They  tossed  the  improvised  ball  back  and  forth  for 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  115 

a  few  minutes.  Then  Cecil  ran  up  to  Sari  and  drew 
her  down  to  a  seat  on  the  stone  and  kissed  her. 

"Will  you  ever  forget  tonight — I  mean  last  night?" 

"Never,"  promised  Sari.  "It's  been  simply  perfect. 
I  don't  think  I'll  go  to  the  studio  this  afternoon.  I 
think  I'll  telephone  them  that  I've  got  to  stay  home 
and  sleep." 

"Poor  darling.    Are  you  tired?" 

"A  little.  I  think  we  might  go  and  have  breakfast 
now." 

They  got  up  to  go.  Sari  put  on  her  hat.  The  sun 
coming  up  over  the  lake,  blazed  its  own  trail  by  a 
streak  of  golden  fire  that  glimmered  upon  the  water. 
Toward  the  town  the  long  line  of  the  city  pleasure 
pier,  with  its  colors  showing  clear  in  the  smokeless 
atmosphere  looked  like  the  efforts  of  a  child  in  crude 
crayons.  Curving  toward  them  from  the  south  the 
lake  touched  the  shore  of  the  Oak  street  beach  where 
a  spot  of  sand  shone  yellow  with  the  sun  upon  it. 

"Let's  look  just  once,"  whispered  Cecil,  "It's  so 
beautiful."  They  wandered  slowly  across  the  park, 
and  into  an  unfamiliar  Greek  restaurant.  Sari  was 
becoming  more  sleepy  every  minute.  She  was  only 
able  to  eat  a  grape  fruit,  but  Cecil  ordered  a  large 
repast.  When  they  had  eaten,  Sari  proposed  that  she 
go  home  alone. 

"I  think  it  looks  better  on  the  whole,"  she  observed. 
"Not  that  I'm  at  all  ashamed  of  being  out  all  night, 
but  some  of  those  people  there  are  sort  of  insinuat- 
ing." 

"Well,  I'll  come  by  in  fifteen  minutes  and  you  can 
wave  to  me  from  your  window  that  you  are  all  right," 
said  Cecil  anxiously. 

"I'll  let  up  the  blind  fast,  and  pull  it  down,"  said 
Sari. 


116  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


IV 

This  satisfactory  plan  worked  out  perfectly,  and 
Cecil  went  to  his  room,  and  Sari  rolled  into  bed  with- 
out having  encountered  any  one.  At  noon  she  called 
the  studio  on  the  telephone  to  say  that  she  would  not 
be  down,  and  went  back  to  bed.  At  about  five  she 
wakened  to  find  a  letter  under  her  door.  She  recog- 
nized Cecil's  writing. 

Nine  o'clock. 
Dearest  Sari, 

I  am  about  to  go  against  one  of  the  things  which  I 
have  always  practiced,  but  you  will  forgive  me  be- 
cause this  is  an  exception  to  the  rule.  I  hardly  know 
how  to  start  or  to  state  things  clearly  to  you.  It  is 
the  first  time  I  have  ever  been  in  such  a  condition  and 
advice  is  what  I  desire — and  your  own  advice.  I  have 
carefully  thought  over  the  subject  for  some  time  so 
that  the  whole  thing  is  not,  as  you  may  suppose,  ex- 
temporaneous. 

Oh  yes,  it's  all  about  a  girl  as  you  can  well  imagine. 
(Don't  pass  away  yet;  the  worst  is  yet  to  come.) 
Since  I  have  been  here  in  Chicago  and  especially  since 
I  have  met  you  I  have  had  a  good  chance  to  do  a  lot 
of  thinking  about  the  uncertain  future  which  lies 
ahead.  My  thoughts  have  been  along  the  average 
possibilities,  nothing  else.  I  am  on  the  way  to  my 
twentieth  year  with  nothing  tangible  to  look  forward 
to  except  money,  old  age,  probably  a  good  to  society, 
and  ordinary  things  like  that.  But  what's  the  good  of 
money  and  things  if  you  can't  be  happy  late  in  life? 

There  is  a  certain  young  lady  whom  I  care  for  more 
than  I  can  tell  you,  more  than  she  would  like  to  be- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  117 

lieve.    She  would  probably  think  I  was  kidding  her  if 
I  wrote  her  along  those  lines. 

Again  I  like  her  so  well  that  I  even  fear  to  lose  her 
friendship  by  writing  indiscreet  or  undiplomatic  let- 
ters to  her  at  this  time.  If  I  can't  have  her  love  now 
or  never  I  certainly  want  to  keep  her  friendship  al- 
ways. Therefore  I  hesitate  to  write  anything  that 
might  diminish  our  friendship. 

I  cannot  hope  nor  do  I  desire  anything  of  a  binding 
promise  at  present.  Oh  no,  that's  in  the  future.  Re- 
member this  is  not  a  puppy  love  affair,  but  it  has 
grown  out  of  sincere  understanding  and  calm  reason- 
ing. 

Old  dear,  I  am  going  to  try  and  get  some  sleep  now. 
Please  don't  keep  me  in  suspense  and  love  from — 

CECIL. 

Sari  read  the  letter  over  twice  and  then  tucked  it 
under  her  pillow,  smiling  happily.  It  would  be  nice  to 
be  married  before  any  of  the  other  girls  were  married. 
She  liked  Cecil  better  than  anyone  she  had  ever  met. 
She  couldn't  bear  to  be  away  from  him  for  a  minute, 
no  one  understood  her  like  he  did.  Yes,  she  loved  him. 
With  this  satisfactory  thought  she  dozed  for  fifteen 
minutes  longer,  and  then  got  up. 

She  had  not  come  out  of  her  bath  when  the  buzzer 
up  above  her  door,  followed  by  a  loud  knocking  on  the 
door,  announced  in  the  person  of  the  colored  maid 
that  there  was  a  special  delivery  letter  for  her.  She 
opened  this  eagerly. 

Dear  Sari, 

I  have  always  tried  to  keep  my  will  power  above 
sentiment.  Because  if  I  ever  gave  it  out  to  a  girl  and 


118  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

allowed  my  sentiment  to  overcome  my  reason — then 
should  it  happen  that  the  girl  would  not  be  mine,  it 
would  just  naturally  wreck  my  life.  You  say  bosh, 
probably,  but  never  forget  that  no  one  knows  one  bet- 
ter than  one  knows  oneself.  I  think  I  know  my  fail- 
ings, abilities  and  what  not. 

I  have  known  scores  of  fellows  who  never  held  a  job 
when  single,  but  after  marriage  or  even  engagement 
the  idea  of  something  in  the  future  changed  their 
whole  lives. 

Please  don't  forget  reasoning,  love  or  anything  else 
is  not  a  matter  of  mere  years.  There  have  been  infant 
prodigies  as  long  as  the  world  has  existed.  I  am  not 
an  infant  prodigy.  I  just  want  you  to  note  that  it  is 
the  man  not  the  years. 

You  really  didn't  know  me  awfully  well  as  regarded 
my  past  before  I  met  you.  I  mean  that,  modestly 
speaking,  I  have  crowded  into  my  life  between  thir- 
teen and  nineteen  as  much  as  the  average  man  does 
up  until  at  least  thirty. 

I  am  going  to  turn  in  and  try  and  get  some  sleep 
now,  old  dear,  so,  so  long,  and  won't  you  forget  about 
all  my  advice  and  everything  but,  Oh  yes,  I  must  tell 
you  that  the  girl  of  my  clear  reasoning  was  you — 

The  tail  on  the  u  of  the  final  word  trailed  off  down 
the  page  and  there  was  no  name  signed.  Sari  was  de- 
lighted. She  dressed  as  hurriedly  as  possible  and  then 
ran  out  to  the  telegraph  station  and  sent  the  following 
message  to  Mr.  Cecil  De  Jonghe: 

"Everything  fine  and  dandy.  Received  both  your 
letters.  Much  love.  SARI." 

This  message  so  relieved  the  distraught  mind  of  Mr. 
Cecil  De  Jonghe  that  he  jumped  up  from  the  bed 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND     -  119 

where  he  had  been  trying  to  sleep  all  day — rushed  to 
the  telephone  and  tried  to  reach  Sari.  But  she  had 
gone  to  the  hotel  for  the  evening,  and  so  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  dress  and  follow  her  there. 


CHAPTER  III 
I 

WHEN  Anita  and  Dizzy  had  been  gone  for  two  days 
it  seemed  to  Ward  as  if  they  had  been  gone  for  weeks. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  and  no  one  to  talk  to.  Why, 
why  did  she  not  hear  from  Rod?  She  thought  of  him 
constantly.  With  his  departure  she  had  definitely 
made  her  decision:  he  was  the  prince.  And  now  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  and  hope. 

She  was  glad  when  Mary  Field  broke  the  morning's 
monotony.  Mary,  too,  had  found  her  prince  that  sum- 
mer. And  with  the  departure  of  little  Bill  Wicker  for 
an  apartment  in  Kenwood  she  felt  herself  as  deserted 
as  Ward.  Into  the  three  casual  calls,  the  automat- 
ically tossed  compliments,  and  the  imitation  love  looks 
she  had  woven  her  love  legend.  And  the  warped  ma- 
terial on  the  loom  looked  to  her  like  a  shining  cloth 
of  gold. 

Mary  seated  herself  on  a  straight  chair,  crooked  her 
neck  in  the  attitude  that  she  considered  best  exhibited 
her  profile,  and  began  to  monologue: 

Wicker  had  understood  her.  He  had  a  sort  of  in- 
tuitive feeling  for  her  that  was  so  delicate  it  had 
never  been  put  into  words.  Though  he  had  never 
actually  spoken  of  his  love  for  her  a  woman's  intui- 
tion was  infallible.  She  knew  how  he  felt.  Besides, 
why  had  he  called  on  her  if  he  was  not  harboring  mat- 
rimonial intentions?  Did  he  consider  that  she  was  the 
sort  of  girl  to  be  trifled  with?  No,  she  could  not  be- 
lieve that.  That  was  not  her  reputation.  She  knew 

120 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  121 

that  too  many  men  had  gazed  with  longing  eyes  from 
afar,  not  daring  to  come  too  near  because  they  were 
too  poor  to  marry.  It  was  that  she  had  not  encour- 
aged him  enough.  He  was  neglecting  her  to  see  if  she 
would  repent.  Her  dignity  and  the  garment  of  sweet 
virginity  around  her  roused  an  awe  in  him  that  had 
made  him  afraid  to  speak  without  some  word  of  en- 
couragement. And  she  had  withheld  it.  Not  because 
she  had  not  favored  his  suit,  but  because  her  maidenly 
feelings  and  her  modesty  had  prevented  it.  He  would 
come  back. 

The  telephone  rang. 

It  was  Sari.  Ward  was  delighted.  They  arranged 
to  lunch  together,  and  Ward  turned  back  to  Mary  who 
now  rose  and  took  her  leave  with  a  few  platitudes 
about  how  lonesome  it  must  be  with  the  three  other 
girls  away. 


II 


At  luncheon  Sari  announced  that  she  was  engaged. 

"But  Sari,  you're  not  in  love  with  that  little  dark- 
eyed  child  you  had  with  you  at  the  station!" 

"Yes,  I  am.    And  we  are  going  to  get  married." 

"Why,  Sari!" 

"What?" 

"He's  only  a  baby." 

"He's  older  than  I  am!" 

"Isn't  he  Jewish?" 

"Well?" 

"Why,  but  Sari,  you  wouldn't  marry  a  Jew,  would 
you?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Well,"  Ward's  definitely  formed  ideals  about  love 


122  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

struggled  with  the  ideas  she  had  gained  from  observ- 
ing certain  sets  at  the  University  snub  Jewish  stu- 
dents. "Of  course,  I  suppose,  if  you  loved  him.  But 
you  haven't  known  him  long  enough  to  know  whether 
you  do  or  not." 

"Oh  yes  I  have,  Ward.  I  know  you  think  you've 
had  an  awful  lot  of  experience  with  men,  but  in  some 
ways  I  bet  I  know  more  about  them  than  you  do." 

"How?" 

"Well,  for  instance,  you've  never  been  insulted, 
have  you?" 

"Insulted!" 

"I  mean  if  a  man  practically  asked  you  to  be  his 
mistress  what  would  you  do?" 

"Sari,  what  a  horrible  word.  Where  did  you  hear 
it?" 

"Oh,  Ward,  don't  pretend  you're  shocked.  That's 
only  a  hang-over  from  things  mother  has  told  you. 
What  would  you  do?" 

Ward  considered.  Sari  was  right.  She  wasn't 
shocked.  She  saw  it  when  Sari  pointed  it  out,  but  be- 
fore she  had  thought  she  was.  "I  should  think  it 
would  be  an  interesting  experience.  That  sort  of  thing 
would  really  try  you  so  that  you  could  know  what 
kind  of  material  you  were  made  of." 

Sari  was  uninterested  in  this  view. 

"Well  a  man  did  insult  me  that  way  once,  last  sum- 
mer. A  manager  from  New  York.  He  told  me  he 
would  put  me  on  the  stage  if  I  would  love  him,  and  he 
made  it  all  pretty  clear.  But  he  wasn't  attractive." 

"Well,  Cecil  hasn't  insulted  you  has  he?" 

"Good  heavens,  no." 

"I've  heard  that  Jews  never  take  Christian  girls 
really  seriously.  And  that  they  try  to,  well,  lead  them 
on,  and  then  desert  them." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  123 

"I'm  sure  that  isn't  true.  Besides  Cecil  isn't  a 
regular  Jew.  He's  not  orthodox.  Why,  just  imagine, 
he's  never  been  inside  of  a  synagogue.  His  people 
don't  believe  in  anything.  They  are  like  father,  sort  of 
socialists.  His  father  had  even  been  to  hear  father 
talk  when  he  used  to  give  his  Sunday  evening  talks." 

"But  Sari,  you're  not  radical.  None  of  us  are  radi- 
cal except  Dizzy.  All  of  us  fancy  we  are  in  love  at 
your  age  and  mine,  I  believe,  but  it  isn't  always 
serious." 

"Well,  it  is  in  this  case,  and  you  can  just  break  the 
news  to  mother  that  it's  going  to  come  off." 

"Not  soon,  though?" 

"Well,  I  may  go  to  New  York  with  the  Carlotta 
Wilson  dancers  late  in  November.  I'm  not  sure  when 
it  will  be.  Cecil  wants  to  get  established  some  place." 

They  talked  all  afternoon.  Ward  took  the  news 
home  with  a  heavy  heart. 


Ill 


Cecil  himself  had  no  such  definite  ideas  about  mar- 
riage as  Sari  had  read  into  his  epistles.  But  Sari's 
whole-hearted  acceptance  of  him  had  carried  him  be- 
yond his  depth.  He  was  afraid  that  his  family  whom 
he  loved  deeply  would  never  forgive  him  if  he  married 
a  gentile.  But  he  hoped  that  perhaps  his  father's  ad- 
miration for  Tyndall  Harris  might  mitigate  their  prej- 
udice in  time.  He  was  certain  that  he  loved  Sari,  ir- 
retrievably and  devotedly.  His  only  worry  was  about 
his  family  and  his  future  income.  He  wanted  to  have 
his  career  well  started  before  he  married.  It  made 
him  very  happy  to  know  that  Sari  was  waiting  for 
him,  and  that  in  ten  or  twelve  years  they  might  be 


124  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

united  in  marriage,  at  which  time  his  parents  would 
have  learned  to  love  Sari,  and  he  would  be  making 
enough  to  buy  her  beautiful  things.  Sometimes,  sit- 
ting with  Sari  desperation  would  seize  him.  He  would 
long  earnestly  for  a  fortune  until  his  mind  wandered 
to  something  else.  But  most  of  the  time  he  evenly 
and  happily  looked  forward  to  a  very  distant  wedding 
date. 

"Oh  Sari,  everything  will  be  wonderful  for  us  some 
day.  Just  have  patience  and  wait." 

"I  will  love  you  and  be  beautiful  for  you.  And 
take  care  of  you." 

"  'Member  that  story  I  wrote.  The  ending  was  the 
best  part  of  it.  'Member  it?" 

"Yes,  I  remember,  but  how  did  it  go?" 

"  'You  need  some  one  to  take  care  of  you,'  said  Bill. 
'How  about  you?'  said  Marian.  Don't  you  like  it?" 

"No,  I  think  it's  so  bad!" 

"And  I  think  it's  so  goodl" 

They  laughed  and  kissed  each  other. 

"I  wish  I  had  a  lip  stick." 

"You  don't  need  a  lip  stick.  Why  none  of  the 
really  smart  dames  use  lip  sticks."  He  put  his  cheek 
against  hers  suddenly,  and  stopped  the  scolding  he 
had  begun.  "I've  got  to  get  a  lot  of  money,  some 
way.  Just  got  to." 


IV 


Ward,  tired  and  nervously  exhausted  by  her  long 
day,  did  not  break  the  news  to  her  mother  until  dinner 
was  nearly  over. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  125 

Mrs.  Harris  stared  straight  ahead  of  her  as  if  frozen 
with  terror.  "I  knew  something  terrible  would  hap- 
pen to  her.  Poor  child!  Poor  little  child,  in  the 
clutches  of  that  terrible  Jew." 

"It's  dreadful  isn't  it?" 

"Why  did  I  ever  let  her  leave  home!"  She  sat 
silent  while  Ward  made  a  pretense  of  finishing  her 
dinner.  "I  must  telephone  her  at  once." 

"She's  at  the  theater  now.  But  I  got  her  to  prom- 
ise to  come  home  for  luncheon  tomorrow  to  see  you ! " 

Mrs.  Harris  spent  a  sleepless  night,  alternately 
praying  and  weeping.  She  could  not  conquer  her  fear 
that  she  would  be  unable  to  influence  Sari. 

At  luncheon  there  was  no  emotional  scene.  In  some 
ways  Mrs.  Harris  had  the  adaptability  of  youth.  She 
controlled  her  feelings,  now,  and  was  ready  almost  des- 
perately to  use  any  means  to  keep  Sari  from  commit- 
ting so  rash  an  act  as  a  marriage  at  her  age  with  this 
young  Jew.  The  very  dignity  which  she  gave  to  it, 
however,  enhanced  the  romance  of  the  situation  in 
Sari's  eyes.  The  one  thing  she  had  rather  dreaded 
was  that  her  mother  would  treat  it  lightly,  as  a  boy 
and  girl  affair.  This  gravity  which  underlay  her 
mother's  manner,  thrilled  her  with  a  sense  of  her  own 
importance.  She  had  often  felt  grown  up  away  from 
home.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  felt  an  adult 
with  her  mother. 

At  luncheon  nothing  was  said  about  the  great  news. 
When  they  were  seated  afterward  in  the  living  room, 
Mrs.  Harris  finally  brought  up  the  subject.  She 
asked  questions  to  which  it  had  never  occurred  to  Sari 
to  give  serious  consideration,  such  as  what  Cecil's 
family  would  think,  how  they  were  to  live  afterward? 
Sari's  imagination  had  been  pre-occupied  with  the 
glamour  of  romance.  Now  it  leaped  to  the  glamour 


126  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

of  house-keeping,  her  importance  as  a  woman  among 
women. 


The  affair  climaxed  swiftly,  solely  through  the 
stupidity  of  Sari's  own  family.  They  had  be- 
come so  alarmed  over  what  she  might  do,  that  they 
went  to  lengths  to  keep  her  from  this  folly.  Soon  after 
she  had  found  out  where  Sari  lived,  Mrs.  Harris  fol- 
lowed her,  and  begged  and  pleaded  all  day.  Ward 
wept  and  pleaded.  Sari  was  non-committal,  enjoying 
the  sensation  she  was  causing  in  a  more  or  less  heart- 
less fashion.  Her  mother's  tears  did  not  move  her 
since  she  had  seen  them  off  and  on  during  her  life 
over  such  things  as  her  own  failure  to  wear  rubbers. 
Ward's  long  arguments  against  it  did  not  touch  her 
reasoning  powers. 

Nita  dealt  the  deciding  blow.  She  sent  an  impera- 
tive telegram  to  Sari  commanding  her  not  to  marry 
Cecil  and  stating  in  strong  terms  her  objection  to  hav- 
ing a  Jew  in  the  family;  Nita  would  have  done  better 
if  she  had  placed  the  affairs  in  the  hands  of  Mrs.  de 
Remy.  Sari  was  thoroughly  moved.  Her  anger 
blazed.  She  felt  that  she  hated  Nita.  With  the  tele- 
gram in  her  hand,  she  called  Cecil  on  the  telephone. 
She  would  show  Nita,  the  snob,  and  her  whole  family. 

"Cecil,"  she  said  in  a  tremulous  voice  in  the  phone, 
"if  you  want  me  at  all,  you'll  have  to  take  me  now." 

Poor  bewildered  little  Cecil  took  her. 

They  were  married  that  afternoon.  A  telegram  was 
sent  to  Nita;  Mrs.  Harris  and  Ward  were  informed 
by  telephone. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  127 


VI 

And  so  Sari's  curiosity  about  sex  was  gratified  in  a 
respectable  fashion.  Her  mother  invaded  Sari's  green 
room,  which  had  become  in  reality  a  bridal  chamber, 
the  next  day,  and  tearfully  made  the  best  of  things. 
She  accepted  Cecil  for  a  son-in-law.  Cecil  sweetly 
allowed  her  to  accept  him.  He  was  pre-occupied  over 
his  own  family  who  had  sent  no  word  of  any  kind, 
though  they  too  had  been  telegraphed  the  news. 

Cecil,  unlike  Sari,  loved  his  family  with  a  devotion 
that  was  deeply  in  his  consciousness.  They  were 
on  his  mind  all  the  time.  He  could  fancy  that  his 
mother  was  hardly  believing  the  news.  She  never 
would  accept  disagreeable  truths  when  they  were  at 
first  forced  on  her.  "Maybe  we  get  another  telegram 
saying  it  ain't  true?"  He  could  almost  hear  her  say- 
ing it  to  his  father.  He  longed  so  to  hear  from  them. 
But,  in  all  probability  they  were  done  with  him  for- 
ever. His  father  had  always  said  he  would  cast  off 
any  child  of  his  who  married  a  gentile. 

Cecil  left  Mrs.  Harris  with  her  newly  wedded  daugh- 
ter and  wandered  by  the  lake.  The  white  frilled  waves 
sounded  dimly  ironic  like  countless  chuckles.  He 
would  have  to  get  a  job  and  make  some  money  im- 
mediately. That  was  certain.  Perhaps  he  could  get 
one  playing  the  piano  in  a  movie.  His  allowance  from 
home  would  stop,  he  knew.  And  a  liberal  allowance 
it  had  been.  He  faintly  regretted  it.  But  Sari,  his 
wife,  too  had  a  claim  on  his  loyalty,  and  he  was 
not  sorry  that  he  had  married  her;  only  worried,  and 
anxious  to  have  things  turn  out  for  the  best.  He  could 
not  live  on  the  money  she  was  making,  and  he  couldn't 
have  her  making  more  money  than  he,  either. 


128  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Mrs.  Harris,  after  drying  her  eyes,  began  to  take  an 
interest  in  Sari's  future.  After  all,  it  was  interesting 
to  have  a  married  daughter.  It  was  the  fate  she  de- 
sired for  all  her  girls.  And  Cecil  was  attractive,  and 
Sari  had  said  he  was  not  absolutely  Jewish.  Perhaps 
he  could  be  converted  to  Christianity.  That  young 
Mrs.  De  Jonghe,  in  spite  of  early  advantages,  could 
not  precisely  be  said  to  be  a  Christian,  did  not  occur 
to  her. 

"And  how  much  money  is  Cecil  making?" 

"He's  not  making  anything  now.  But  he's  going  to 
get  a  job  in  a  movie,  playing  the  piano,  and  then  he'll 
make  seventy  or  eighty  dollars  a  week." 

"Do  moving  picture  pianists  earn  that  much?" 

"Well  at  first,  he  might  just  get  about  forty  or  fifty 
dollars,  but  he's  so  talented  that  he's  sure  to  get  more 
right  away." 

"I  doubt  it.  How  many  young  men  of  his  age  are 
getting  even  forty  dollars  a  week." 

"But  Cecil  is  exceptional." 

"Well,  I'm  sure  I  hope  the  butcher  and  baker  will 
think  so." 

She  repeated  the  conversation  that  night  to  Ward, 
climaxing  on  "I  told  her  that  I  hoped  the  butcher  and 
baker  would  think  as  much  of  Cecil  as  she  does."  It 
seemed  to  her  to  have  been  an  appropriately  keen 
thing  to  have  said. 

VII 

Cecil  did  get  a  job  playing  in  a  moving  picture 
theater  almost  at  once.  One  afternoon,  when  they 
had  been  married  nearly  a  week,  he  found  some  house- 
keeping rooms  half  a  block  from  the  Oak  street  beach. 

They  were  new.    So  new  that  the  furniture  was  not 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  129 

yet  all  in.  An  old  house  had  been  remodeled  so  that 
two  tiny  apartments  were  made,  one  on  the  third,  and 
one  on  the  second  floor.  Mr.  Bixbie,  the  owner,  and 
his  wife  occupied  the  first  floor.  On  the  second  floor 
was  a  room  which  Mr.  Bixbie's  mother  occupied  and 
the  bathroom  which  everyone  in  the  house  would  have 
to  use.  The  second  floor  apartment  was  sixty-five 
dollars,  and  the  third  floor,  sixty.  Each  had  an  airy 
parlor  with  a  bed  which  closed  up  into  the  wall,  and  a 
large  kitchen  that  would  have  to  be  used  also  for  a 
dining  room. 

They  liked  the  upper  one  best,  but  by  the  time  Cecil 
could  get  Sari  to  look  at  it,  on  her  way  to  the  hotel,  it 
was  rented,  and  an  elderly  couple  were  trying  hard  to 
persuade  Mr.  Bixbie  to  rent  them  the  second  floor. 
Sari  and  Cecil  closed  the  deal,  agreeing  to  move  in  the 
next  day,  and  paying  a  month's  rent  in  advance. 

"Do  you  want  us  to  sign  a  lease?"  asked  Cecil  with 
a  business-like  air. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Bixbie,  a  solemn  young  man,  whom 
they  suspected  of  having  been  married  scarcely  longer 
than  they.  "I  prefer  to  deal  with  people  on  their 
honor.  If  you  pay  your  rent  each  month  in  advance 
that's  all  I  ask  for."  It  was  evidently  his  first  ex- 
perience as  a  landlord,  and  he  was  taking  it  very  se- 
riously. "Now,  of  course,  as  long  as  the  furniture 
isn't  all  in  this  apartment  you'll  naturally  be  put  to 
some  inconvenience,  so  we'll  say  the  rent  will  begin 
on  the  first  of  October,  instead  of  tomorrow  if  that's 
all  right  with  you."  He  turned  his  head  and  howled 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "Oh  Tweetiel" 

"Ya-as!"  answered  his  wife  from  the  next  room. 

"She'll  tell  you  about  the  linens,"  explained  Mr. 
Bixbie. 

Tweetie  was  a  well  corseted  young  woman  with 


130  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

large  gentle  brown  eyes,  and  a  small  mouth.  She  pro- 
nounced all  her  vowels  perfectly,  but  in  the  wrong 
places. 

"Aow  ya-as,  eba-out  the  deshes.  Wai,  ah've  gowt 
ayv'rythen  fexed."  There  was  no  dialect  of  any  spe- 
cial place,  but  she  spoke  with  so  much  assurance  that 
Sari  could  not  doubt  that  she  had  cultivated  it. 

They  arranged  to  move  in  the  next  day,  and  then 
Sari  hurried  off  to  the  Carlotta  Wilson  dancers,  and 
Cecil  to  his  moving  picture  theater. 


WARD  and  Helene  Partridge,  in  raincoats  and  slouch 
hats,  walked  briskly  down  the  boulevard.  The  as- 
phalt pavement  shining  in  the  rain  like  a  river,  was 
crossed  at  intervals  with  golden  paths  cast  by  the 
round,  electric  moons  that  lighted  the  street. 

Helene  was  clinging  desperately  to  the  love  legend, 
and  bitterly  condemning  other  girls  for  Shavian  prac- 
tices. She  let  her  mind  play  with  shuddering  fasci- 
nation on  the  practices  of  the  courtezan,  while  scorn- 
ing sex  itself  in  her  more  self-satisfied  moments. 

"Yes,  I  think  that  a  woman  reaches  her  level,  at- 
tains her  spiritual  specific  in  the  sea  of  marriage," 
said  Ward.  "That  is  poise — self-satisfaction — peace, 
I  suppose." 

"Married  women  are  so  self-satisfied,"  said  Helene, 
beginning  on  a  note  of  spite,  but  plunging  immediately 
to  her  own  problem.  "Sometimes  I  think  I'll  get  mar- 
ried. It's  the  natural  thing  for  a  woman,  after  all." 

This  flimsy  pretense — part  of  the  general  fantasy 
of  her  host  of  lovers  with  which  she  was  always  satis- 
fying her  imaginary  conception  of  herself, — aroused 
a  pitying  fear  in  Ward.  Her  first  doubt  of  the  love 
legend  had  been  roused — this  legend  which  had  ruined 
Helene.  Would  Helene's  prince  come  along?  Ward 
wondered.  And  with  the  wonder  came  the  fear  that 
she  was  becoming  futile.  Uselessness  was  wasting 
her.  Was  she  doomed,  like  Helene,  to  pettiness  after 
all? 

13J 


132  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

On  account  of  her  seniority  in  years  Helene  pa- 
tronized both  Nita  and  Ward,  in  telling  of  the  hearts 
she  had  broken.  She  pretended  that  at  their  age  she 
had  been  swamped  with  masculine  attention,  but 
anxiety  for  her  future,  shook  her  whole  being  with  a 
burning  eagerness,  masked  by  a  stiff-lipped  pride 
when  the  breath  of  a  man's  attention  blew  past  her. 

Listening  to  Helene's  rhapsodies  on  Bill  Wicker;  to 
her  limitless  conjectures  and  conclusions  always  flat- 
tering to  herself,  Ward  experienced  sharp  sensations 
of  gloom,  melancholy,  apprehension.  Was  her  affair 
with  Rod,  then,  nothing  but  imagination?  Was  it 
based  on  smoky  visions  that  would  be  dispelled  by 
the  clear  wind  of  time?  Had  Rod  been  trifling  with 
her,  as  she  knew  Wicker  had  been  trifling  with  Helene? 
Sometimes,  half  convinced  by  Helene's  colored  stories, 
that  Wicker  was  the  hero  Helene  thought  him,  she 
would  reassure  Helene  that  Wicker  was  earnestly 
longing  for  her,  only  kept  off  by  Mrs.  Partridge's 
heavy  guard. 

It  was  now  over  a  month  since  Rod  had  gone. 
Ward's  inner  life  had  become  an  absorption  in  him. 
Every  trifling  event  of  the  day  reminded  her  of  some 
phase  of  their  friendship.  The  telephone's  ring  meant 
a  wild  hope  that  it  might  be  he.  Every  mail  delivery 
encouraged  her  for  a  minute  with  the  thought  of  a 
possible  letter. 

Helene's  confidence  subtly  took  away  from  the  dig- 
nity of  her  affair  with  Rod.  Was  she  destined  to  go 
on  year  in  and  year  out  in  this  poignant  atmosphere 
of  stale  virginity,  feeling  the  pain,  the  pathos  of  the 
unwanted,  until  she  became  dull,  apathetic?  No,  she 
hugged  her  pain  to  her  breast.  Her  very  sufferings 
linked  her  to  youth  and  hope.  Aesthetic  sufferings, 
they  were,  to  be  dispelled  by  the  interest  of  a  new  play 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  133 

or  by  an  invitation  to  dinner  from  a  new  man.  It  was 
only  when  she  saw  her  feelings  reflected  in  Helene, 
heard  the  excuses  she  made  for  Rod,  in  Helene's 
mouth,  pardoning  Wicker,  that  a  fierce,  hot  feeling,  al- 
most of  revolt,  arose  in  her. 

Behind  the  falling  curtain  of  the  rain,  Helene  and 
she  were  phantoms  on  the  street,  two  timid  fugitives 
shut  in  the  mist  of  rainy  silver,  frustrate,  longing,  both. 


II 


As  the  days  hurried  on  toward  Christmas,  Nita,  in 
New  York,  was  very  busy.  She  already  had  a  circle  of 
girls  about  her  as  she  had  in  Lakeshore,  and  at  the 
University.  Admiring,  inferior  girls  whom  she  pa- 
tronized. These  girls  were  different  from  Helene  and 
Mary,  in  that  they  had  real  love  affairs  to  confide. 
Many  of  them  were  what  Nita  called  "messy,"  by 
which  she  meant  that  they  came  as  near  to  being  illicit 
as  they  could  without  being  actually  so.  Nita  was 
apt  to  generalize  all  sex  as  messy. 

Howard  wrote  often.  His  letters  only  hinted  that 
he  was  in  love  with  her. 

At  Christmas  time  he  sent  her  a  small  diamond 
ring,  which  she  promptly  sent  back.  After  that  she 
was  unhappy  for  some  time,  but  she  had  been  unable 
to  see  any  other  solution.  He  had  never  proposed. 
He  had  never  told  her  that  he  loved  her.  Therefore 
she  could  not  accept  jewelry  from  him.  Besides  she 
would  never  care  to  show  the  girls  such  an  inexpensive 
ring.  For  a  while  it  looked  as  if  the  affair  was  off 
forever.  Then  Howard  came  forward  nobly  with  a 
declaration.  She  replied,  "I  do  love  you,  Howard," 
but  not  impulsively,  as  Sari  had  done  by  telegraph. 


134  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

She  wrote  and  re-wrote  the  letter  and  then  sent  it  on 
handsome  stationery  on  its  trip  across  the  continent. 
She  wrote  home  that  she  was  engaged,  and  there 
was  much  rejoicing  in  the  breasts  of  her  mother  and 
her  sister  Ward. 


CHAPTER  V 


CECIL  drooped  more  and  more  as  the  days  went  on 
and  he  did  not  hear  from  his  parents.  Sari,  pleasantly 
indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  her  family,  could  not  un- 
derstand his  sadness;  she  hoped  with  an  unselfishness 
novel  to  her  nature  that  his  mother,  at  least,  would 
soon  relent. 

Sometimes  Cecil  was  sentimental  over  his  mother, 
and  told  Sari  how  well  she  had  understood  him,  and 
how  she  had  always  taken  his  part  against  his  father 
who  was  a  gruff  old  boy,  but  kind  at  heart.  He  called 
them  the  pater  and  the  mater. 

So  when  a  letter  post-marked  St.  Louis  came  for 
Cecil  during  the  first  week  in  December,  her  eager  joy 
bubbled  as  she  handed  it  to  him. 

"Dear  Cecil  and  Sari: 

"Will  you  please  come  and  visit  us  for  New  Years. 
Always  we  have  the  whole  family  to  come  and  eat 
with  us  New  Years.  You  can  ask  Cecil. 

"Papa  wants  you  should  both  come  home.  If  you 
have  not  money  we  will  send.  Come  as  soon  as  you 
can.  Come  before  New  Years  if  you  can. 

"The  boys  are  crazy  to  see  you.  Aunt  Becky  wants 
you  should  stay  with  her  a  few  days.  Write  soon  and 
let  us  know  when  you  could  come.  Much  love, 

"MRS.  DE  JONGHE." 

Evidently  written  by  a  person  unaccustomed  to  the 

135 


136  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

use  of  the  pen  the  signature  looked  as  if  it  had  been 
accomplished  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Happiness  diffused  itself  through  Cecil.  It  was  as 
if  a  button  of  release  had  been  placed  on  his  soul  al- 
lowing its  natural  joyousness  to  bubble  forth. 

"The  gang  all  gathers  round  on  New  Year's  eve,"  he 
explained  nonchalantly.  His  aggressively  picturesque 
Americanism  struck  Sari  afresh  after  reading  the  letter 
which  had  been  something  of  a  shock  to  her.  Were 
Cecil's  people  then  really  that  Jewy  kind  of  Jews  that 
one  read  about?  She  knew  that  they  were  not  ortho- 
dox, and  she  had  not  imagined  that  idiom  would  be 
part  of  their  language  any  more  than  it  was  part  of 
Cecil's.  Did  his  mother  and  father  speak  with  an  ac- 
cent, then! 

Cecil's  clan  celebrated  neither  Christmas  nor  the 
Jewish  holidays.  But  on  the  last  night  of  December 
they  had  a  custom  of  gathering  together,  forty  or 
fifty  of  them  for  merry-making — cooking  turkeys  with 
prodigious  stuffings,  and  exercising  the  subtle  arts 
of  the  Jewish  cuisine.  Cecil  quickened  with  pleasure 
as  he  described  it  to  Sari. 

They  decided  to  spend  Christmas  in  Lakeshore  as 
Dizzy  was  coming  home  for  the  holidays.  Then  they 
would  go  to  St.  Louis,  on  the  last  day  of  the  old  year — 
Cecil's  day  for  drawing  his  salary. 

II 

"Ooh  Cecil!  What  for  you  want  to  go  and  do 
that?"  Tearfully,  with  a  gesture  half  bantering,  half 
deprecating,  wholly  loving,  Mrs.  De  Jonghe  welcomed 
her  boy  at  the  railroad  station  in  St.  Louis.  For  Sari, 
she  had  the  sentence,  "So  little — so  young.  What  does 
mamma  think?" 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  137 

Sari  rightly  interpreting  this  as  an  enquiry  into  her 
mother's  feelings  on  the  subject  of  her  marriage,  mut- 
tered that  her  mother  thought  she  was  young,  too. 
Her  freedom  of  movement  deserted  her  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life.  A  gesture  would  have  been  adventure. 
A  step  required  courage. 

"Poor  papa  is  here  with  the  machine.  Dear  papa 
how  he  feels."  She  sighed  and  led  the  way  to  the 
street  talking  all  the  time  to  Cecil.  How  thin  he 
looked — chicken  for  dinner — Sari  was  thin,  too — 
They  would  fatten  her  up — lots  of  nice  milk  would  do 
it — did  she  drink  malted  milk — every  night  before  bed 
she  should  eat  it — these  restaurants — 

Poor  papa  turned  out  to  be  a  fierce  looking  indi- 
vidual who  sat  behind  the  wheel,  glowered  and  tended 
strictly  to  his  own  business.  His  eyebrows  bristled, 
his  black  eyes  darted  out  at  Sari  who  shrank  back 
thinking,  quite  erroneously,  that  he  had  conceived  a 
violent  distaste  for  her.  He  ejected  one  sentence  of 
surly  welcome  to  Cecil  and  then  glared  ferociously  to 
conceal  his  emotion.  This  combined  with  the  counte- 
nance that  nature  had  given  him  made  him  appear  a 
formidable  person,  which  he  was  not,  being  completely 
under  the  thumb  of  mamma,  who  ruled  the  household. 

"You  should  tuck  in  her  feet,  Cecil.  Cold,  do  you 
want  her  to  get?  Ach,  how  little!  How  thin!  The 
boys — how  they  will  love  her.  Roger  will  be  jealous — 
huh  Cecil?"  She  exchanged  glances  with  Cecil,  nod- 
ding, congratulating  him  over  Sari's  head.  "Isn't  she 
wonderful?"  Cecil's  eyes  asked  mutely.  And  his 
mother  answered  aloud  out  of  her  love  for  him,  "Beau- 
tiful. So  stylish!  I  guess  she's  clever,  too?  I  don't 
know?" 

"Oh,  is  she?"  Cecil  beamed,  almost  beside  himself 


138  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

with  joy  at  his  mother's  renewed  friendship.  He  bent 
ostentatiously  over  Sari.  "Cold,  dear?" 

"Quite  warm,"  murmured  Sari,  still  overcome  by  the 
feeling  of  strangeness.  The  vividness  of  Mrs.  De 
Jonghe's  personality  blighted  her  own.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life  she  failed  to  be  fully  herself.  This 
feeling  was  to  intensify  as  the  visit  progressed  and 
she  met  more  members  of  Cecil's  race. 

A  Jew  among  gentiles  is  always  a  vivid  person.  He 
stands  out  in  heavy  outlines.  He  has  a  tang;  a  blare; 
an  exotic  brilliancy  that  may  repel  or  attract.  But 
the  Aryan  among  Jews !  Against  a  solid  Hebraic  back- 
ground his  pale  pigments  merge  into  the  shadows. 
Color  deserts  him.  Foreign  he  may  look  in  a  mean 
negligible  way.  But  he  is  faint,  hollow  cheeked, 
dulled.  The  eye  passes  him,  bounding  on  to  the  next 
Jew. 


Ill 


Cecil's  small  brother  Bertram,  a  child  of  five,  ran 
to  Sari  as  soon  as  he  saw  her,  and  refused  to  be  drawn 
away.  She  seemed  to  have  the  same  magnetism  for 
him  that  she  had  for  Cecil.  Bertram  resented  Cecil's 
nightly  usurpation  of  her,  and  climbed  on  her  bed  as 
soon  as  he  awoke  in  the  morning. 

In  the  house  next  door  lived  Cecil's  cousins,  all  with 
good  old  English  names.  There  was  Roger,  twenty, 
virile,  on  the  edge  of  becoming  representatively  racial. 
Francis,  twelve,  dreamy,  much  like  Cecil  in  tempera- 
ment, and  Cynthia,  twenty-eight,  blatantly,  deter- 
minedly like  a  flapper  of  fiction. 

Cynthia  and  Roger  came  to  dinner  that  first  night. 

"New  spoons,  Aunt  Ray,"  exclaimed  Cynthia  as 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  139 

they  sat  down  to  the  soup.  "Swell?"  On  the  table 
small,  shiny,  round-bowled  spoons  lay  contemptuously 
beside  the  other  dull,  worn  table  ware. 

"You  like  them,  Cyn?"  asked  Cecil's  mother  anx- 
iously. "What  you  think,  Sari?  Such  a  funny  shape. 
It  don't  go  in  the  mouth  right.  What  you  think?" 

"Aw  say,  Aunt  Ray,  you're  not  supposed  to  swallow 
them,"  said  Cynthia.  "You  should  sip  your  soup  from 
the  side.  See?  Like  this." 

"I  should  sip  from  the  side?    That's  the  style?" 

"You  should  be  foolish,  Ray,"  said  Cecil's  father. 
"Get  me  the  old  spoon,  the  big  size." 

"Look,  Sari  drinks  from  the  side  like  a  cup," 
shouted  little  Bertram. 

"Ach,  her  appetite  like  a  bird's  it  is!"  said  Mrs.  De 
Jonghe  looking  at  Sari  pityingly.  "Why  don't  you  eat 
something?"  She  filled  her  daughter-in-law's  plate 
until  it  ran  over  on  the  cloth.  "Some  salad  you  must 
have,  too.  Cecil,  every  night  before  bed,  hot  malted 
milk  you  should  give  her!" 


IV 


As  the  guests  began  to  arrive  for  the  New  Year's 
party  Sari  began  to  feel  more  and  more  lost.  Roger 
brought  a  little  blonde  girl  on  his  arm  who  looked  pale 
and  scared.  The  color  had  retreated  from  even  her 
lips  under  the  strain  of  combating  his  lusty  swagger- 
ing personality.  She  was  the  only  gentile  besides  Sari 
at  the  party.  Her  name  was  Janet. 

Cecil's  Aunt  Becky,  with  a  rich  bosom  swelling  out 
under  her  dimpled  chin,  led  in  Uncle  Pete,  slim,  suave 
and  adoringly  proud  of  Aunt  Becky;  Rosie  Shune- 
mann,  her  red  hair  streaked  with  gray,  aggressively 


140  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

the  unhappy  virgin  came  with  them.  Early  in  the 
evening,  a  curly  haired  pretty  young  girl  told  her  for- 
tune and  promised  her  seven  husbands.  This  Rosie 
pathetically  repeated  from  time  to  time  during  the 
evening. 

About  eleven  thirty  the  Jews  began  coming  so  thick 
and  fast  that  they  seemed  to  Sari  to  pile  up,  melt 
and  disappear,  like  snow-flakes  at  the  beginning  of  a 
storm.  Faster,  and  faster,  thicker  and  thicker,  more 
and  more,  until  there  was  such  a  crowd  of  strange 
Jewish  faces,  indistinguishable  one  from  the  other,  yet 
all  different,  that  Sari  found  herself  low-spiritedly 
wishing  for  someone  to  come  and  dig  her  out.  What  a 
variety  of  types  there  were.  How  very  different  one 
Jew  could  be  from  another  and  still  be  markedly 
Jewish-looking.  This  was  a  great  discovery  to  Sari, 
who  had  always  accepted  the  theory  that  all  Jews  were 
alike  hook-nosed,  black  eyed,  and  curly  headed.  Here 
were  blue-eyed,  straight-haired,  red-headed,  Grecian- 
nosed  Jews.  Only  one  or  two,  here  and  there,  bore 
all  the  marks  accredited  to  the  traditional  Hebrew. 

"Do  you  feel  yourself  anywhere  about?"  asked  the 
pale  blond  girl  Janet,  in  a  whisper. 

Sari  stared.    Then  she  understood. 

"I  must  be  here,"  she  said.  "But  I  really  can't  say 
that  I  feel  aggressively  in  the  landscape." 

"I  know  I'm  not  here,"  said  the  pale  blonde.  fcl 
just  can't  get  hold  of  myself.  You  look  like  a  poor 
little  drowning  kitten." 

Cecil  was  the  handsomest  person  in  the  family. 
From  his  grandmother  to  his  little  third  cousin  David 
it  was  evident  that  he  was  admitted  to  hold  the  family 
honors  for  beauty  of  form  and  figure. 

"You  ought  to  see  Cecil  in  a  bathing  suit,  he's  sim- 
ply great,  Janet,"  called  Cynthia.  She  was  seated  on 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  141 

Roger's  knee,  drinking  wine.  She  had  just  finished 
proclaiming  in  a  loud  voice  that  they  could  carry  her 
out,  she  meant  to  get  drunk,  when  her  attention  had 
been  called  to  Cecil  standing  near  Sari.  "He's  sim- 
ply stunning  looking  in  a  bathing  suit,  Janet.  That 
boy's  figure!" 

"Janet  likes  me  in  a  bathing  suit,"  said  Roger,  who 
was  responsible  for  Janet's  presence  at  the  party. 

"Oh  no,  you're  too  hairy,  Rog,"  said  Cynthia.  She 
wore  evening  dress  and  an  enormous  bouquet  of  or- 
chids. The  young  man  to  whom  she  was  engaged  sat 
pale,  and  strained  looking  on  a  nearby  sofa,  and  never 
removed  his  eyes  from  her  face. 

Janet  and  Sari  were  the  center  of  the  young  people, 
who  lead  by  Cynthia,  and  Roger,  were  anxious  to  show 
the  older  folks  that  they  were  very  free,  modern  and 
American.  The  younger  women  all  smoked  and  talked 
with  a  turn  of  the  shoulders,  a  lift  of  the  eyebrow,  a 
hint  of  an  English  accent. 

"Oh  the  crowd's  celebrating,"  said  Cynthia.  "You 
should  see  them.  They  began  this  afternoon  down  at 
the  Random." 

"Already?"  asked  Mrs.  De  Jonghe. 

"Yes.  Janet  and  I  were  out  there  for  tea.  And 
three  men  waiting  for  an  elevator  came  up  dead  drunk. 
One  of  them  grabbed  me  for  a  kiss." 

"Swell  men?" 

"Didn't  any  of  them  grab  Janet?"  asked  Roger 
jealously. 

"No,  their  elevator  came  along  just  then — " 

"Well,  can  you  imagine  that,"  demanded  Roger  in- 
dignantly. "I  guess  they  couldn't  have  seen  Janet, 
then." 

At  midnight  a  gorgeous  feast  was  served.  Roast 
turkeys  were  brought,  deliciously  browned,  from  the 


142  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

kitchens.  Such  salads!  Such  vegetables!  Such 
cakes!  Wines  and  liqueurs!  A  mixture  of  the  most 
modern  American  dishes  and  foods  prepared  as  their 
ancestors  prepared  them  five  hundred  years  ago. 

The  party  hilariously  took  their  places  at  the  table. 
The  older  men  talking  gravely,  religion,  philosophy 
and  politics,  mostly  politics.  Sari  caught  bits  of  con- 
versation that  made  her  think  of  her  own  childhood 
when  her  father  had  gathered  the  radicals  and  social- 
ists of  his  acquaintance  around  the  Harris  dinner 
table.  And  there  was  a  fat,  good-natured  looking  man 
who  upheld  the  capitalist  system  humorously,  in  the 
face  of  a  small,  wiry,  earnest,  shabbily  dressed  person 
who  pounded  his  fists  on  the  table  and  shouted  some- 
thing about  the  working  classes. 

The  older  women  whispered  together  and  nodded, 
and  discussed  Sari.  Mrs.  De  Jonghe  exhibited  her 
proudly,  and  with  such  a  roguish  look  in  her  bright 
eyes,  peeping  out  of  her  round  kitten  face,  as  to  make 
Sari  quite  happy  to  be  with  her.  And  little  Ber- 
tram, who  had  been  allowed  to  come  to  the  party, 
clung  to  her  hand  until  he  fell  asleep  on  one  of  the 
divans,  when  he  was  carried  off  to  bed  by  Cecil. 

The  younger  people,  who  were  much  in  the  minority 
tried  to  carry  the  party  with  a  high  hand;  to  liven  it 
up  a  bit.  Thus  Roger  arose  and  told  a  story,  and 
announced  that  everyone  who  didn't  tell  a  story  would 
be  obliged  to  pay  a  forfeit.  Janet  being  called  on 
next,  refused,  whereupon  Roger  collected  the  forfeit, 
a  long,  fervent  kiss. 

The  party  broke  up  about  four  o'clock,  and  at  five 
after  the  last  guests  had  dribbled  home,  the  De 
Jonghe  family  seated  themselves  comfortably  in  the 
kitchen  for  a  final  cup  of  coffee.  After  which  they 
all  trailed  sleepily  off  to  bed. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  143 


When  the  lights  were  turned  out  and  they  lay  side 
by  side  Sari  said:  "I  guess  we  can't  laugh  it  off, 
Cecil." 

A  long  breath  came  from  Cecil.  He  turned  his  head 
restlessly  on  the  pillow.  "What  makes  you  think  so, 
dear?" 

"I've  been  looking  in  books,  and  things,  and  I  found 
out  that  sickness  like  I've  been  having  is  one  of  the 
symptoms." 

"Gee,  Sari,  it's  going  to  make  it  bad." 

"Yes,"  she  agreed.    "Say  Cecil,  are  you  sorry?" 

"Sorry?" 

"You  know,  sorry  we  got  married  and  everything 
like  that." 

"How  could  I  be  sorry,  dear.    You  see,  I  love  you." 

"Cecil,  you're  sweet.  Do  you  really?  In  spite 
of—" 

He  pulled  her  to  him  and  spoke  against  her  lips. 
"Now,  more  than  ever." 

Sari  drew  away  from  him  and  said  with  greater  ear- 
nestness than  she  had  ever  felt  in  her  life  before: 
"Cecil  I  want  to  tell  you  something.  I  love  you,  too. 
I  didn't  when  we  were  married.  I  just  thought  that 
marriage  was  going  to  be  a  lark — a  date  every  night. 
And  I  wasn't  at  all  sure  that  I'd  stay  married.  I 
didn't  understand  about  it — " 

"Do  you  think  you  will  now?" 

"Understand?" 

"No,  stay  married?" 

"Yes,  yes,  I  think  so.  There's  a  cock-eyed  yarn 
that  mother  filled  us  full  of  when  we  were  children  all 
about  a  prince  that  was  going  to  come  and — oh  well, 


144  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

you  know.  Of  course,  I  saw  that  was  simply  cheese, 
and  I  thought  it  didn't  matter  what  you  did  Now,  I 
sort  of  get  it.  I  don't  mean  that  I  believe  in  it,  but 
I  understand  how  you  could  get  to  feel  that  way  about 
a  man  if  you  were  the  sort  of  person  who  dressed  life 
up  in  its  Sunday  clothes — " 

"Dear,  it's  almost  morning." 

"Oh,  well,  then,  goodnight,  you  cock-eyed  old  thing, 
if  you  don't  want  to  hear  what  I'm  talking  about — " 

"I  do,  Darling,  I'm  awfully  interested,  only  it  is 
late!" 

"I  said  goodnight,  didn't  I?" 

His  kiss  was  like  a  round  fat  period  at  the  end  of  a 
sentence. 

"Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." 


CHAPTER  VI 
I 

MR.  AND  MRS.  CECIL  HOWE  DE  JONGHE — (Sari  had 
insisted  on  the  H.  standing  for  something) — came  back 
to  their  home  on  Oak  street  much  refreshed  in  spirits 
from  their  winter  holiday.  Sari  breathed  a  sigh  of 
thankfulness  that  Cecil's  people  lived  in  St.  Louis,  and 
Cecil  himself  settled  down  contentedly  on  the  train 
at  leaving  them,  happy  that  everything  was  all  right 
at  home  so  he  could  forget  about  it. 

But  an  hour  after  he  had  parted  from  Sari  on  his 
first  night  at  the  theater,  he  returned,  dejected  and 
with  the  news  that  some  one  else  had  been  hired  dur- 
ing his  absence,  and  that  the  manager  refused  to  dis- 
charge the  interloper. 

It  was  a  cold,  miserable  night,  and  they  looked  dis- 
piritedly through  the  papers,  but  no  one  was  in  need 
of  a  moving  picture  pianist.  But  for  the  weather 
Cecil  would  have  gone  out  and  solicited  the  managers 
of  neighborhood  theaters  to  try  him,  but  he  was  suf- 
fering with  an  incipient  cold,  and  Sari  refused  to  let 
him  go. 

The  next  day  he  began  a  heart-breaking  search  for 
a  job.  Nearly  all  the  theaters  wanted  a  pipe-organist 
as  well  as  a  pianist,  and  Cecil's  natural  talents  on  the 
pipe  organ  would  not  pass  with  any  of  the  managers 
who  tried  him. 

A  week  went  by  in  which  Cecil  desperately  answered 
every  advertisement  he  could  imagine  himself  filling  in 

145 


146  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

any  capacity.  Their  money  was  nearly  gone  when  he 
got  a  short  job  working  as  a  clerk  in  a  January  sale  of 
white  goods.  He  made  forty-five  dollars  in  ten  days' 
work  with  his  commissions,  and  came  in  every  night 
looking  paler,  thinner,  more  tired  and  with  his  big  eyes 
staring  at  Sari  with  the  poetic  pathos  of  countenance  in 
which  some  Jews  seem  to  typify  the  persecutions  of 
their  race. 

Forty-five  dollars  relieved  them  for  the  time,  but 
their  rent  would  be  due  in  a  week  and  it  was  sixty- 
five  dollars. 

"Cecil,  dear,  don't  worry  about  that.  It's  sure  to 
come  out  all  right." 

Cecil,  his  head  in  his  hands,  turned  restlessly. 

"I  shouldn't  worry,  and  you  going  to  be  a  mother?" 
He  rose,  and  moved  about  the  room  restlessly.  "We've 
got  to  make  the  best  of  things,  I  suppose.  Of  course 
I  can  ask  my  dad  for  money,  but — " 

"Oh  surely  Cecil,  tomorrow  you'll  get  something — " 

Cecil  broke  down.  "Oh  baby,  I'm  no  good.  No 
good.  Our  plans — everything  smashed."  He  threw 
himself  on  his  knees  and  buried  his  head  in  Sari's  lap. 

"Oh  Cecil,  tomorrow,  you're  bound  to  get  something, 
bound  to,  dear,  I  know  you  will." 


II 


The  next  day  Cecil  did  get  something.  A  small 
moving  picture  theater,  barely  managing  to  exist  on 
the  southwest  side  in  the  suburbs  offered  him  twenty 
dollars  a  week.  The  journey  back  and  forth  would  be 
three  hours  each  way,  but  as  he  made  it  homeward, 
there  was  a  faint  gleam  of  happiness  in  his  heart,  even 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  147 

though  one  of  the  thick  Chicago  blizzards  delayed 
him  an  hour. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he  came  in.  Sari  sat 
up  in  bed  and  hugged  him. 

"You're  so  warm,"  murmured  Cecil,  "So  nice  and 
warm.  Gee,  it's  cold  out.  Well,  dear,  I  got  a  job." 

"Cecil  darling,  where?" 

"Way  out  south — you  know  that  second  {ad.'  Well, 
an  old  Dutchman  offered  me  a  job.  I  played  for  him 
and  he  thought  I  was  swell.  Course  he's  no  judge  of 
music,  but — " 

"How  much?" 

Cecil  hesitated.  If  only  there  had  been  some  way 
to  augment  his  income  he  would  have  increased  it  in 
telling  her.  But  he  had  to  confess  "Twenty  dollars." 

Sari  was  silent,  wondering  how  they  would  live  on 
that. 

"Maybe,  honey,  I  can  get  some  work  to  do  in  the 
daytime.  Some  shoe  clerk  job,  or  something — " 

"But  Cecil,  when  would  you  sleep.  You  won't  get 
home  before  midnight,  will  you?" 

"Midnight?  Gee,  I  wish  I  would  get  home  at  mid- 
night. Do  you  know  it  takes  three  hours  to  get  out 
there.  I'll  have  to  leave  here  at  four,  to  make  it  by 
seven,  and  the  place  closes  up  at  eleven-thirty,  so  I'll 
get  home  at  exactly  two-thirty  in  the  morning." 

"Oh  Cecil,  we'll  have  to  move  south,  won't  we? 
You  can't  be  making  such  a  long  trip." 

"Rents  are  cheaper  on  the  south  side.  Gosh,  I 
won't  get  paid  for  a  week,  and  then  the  rent  will  be 
due  here.  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Tweety  will  wait  a  week 
for  the  rent." 

"Cecil." 

"Yes,  honey!" 


148  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I've  been  thinking  Cecil  that  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad 
idea  if  we  went — well — " 

"Yes?" 

"Well,  if  we  went  home  and  stayed  with  mother, 
until,  well,  until  after  it  came?" 

Cecil  was  thoughtful. 

"Do  you  want  to?" 

"Well,  it  would  certainly  be  more  comfortable  for 
both  of  us.  And  as  long  as  I  can't  work,  I  might  as 
well  be  at  home — we  wouldn't  have  any  rent  to  pay, 
and  you  could  save  up  your  money  for  doctor  bills  and 
things  like  that.  Babies  are  awfully  expensive,  I've 
heard." 

"We'd  have  to  pay  board,"  said  Cecil.  "It  wouldn't 
be  right." 

"Mother  wouldn't  take  it  from  us.  Cecil,  we've  got 
to  go  some  place.  We  can't  stay  here  and  pay  this 
rent.  Why  sixty-five  dollars  from  eighty  dollars  leaves 
only  fifteen  dollars  a  month  for  us  to  eat  on.  We 
can't  save  any  money  out  of  that." 

"No?"  said  Cecil,  still  with  doubt  in  his  voice. 

"Of  course,  I'll  look  rather  foolish  going  home  after 
I've  been  so  high-handed  and  everything.  But  it's 
really  the  only  sensible  thing  to  do,  until  after  the 
child  arrives!  Then  I  can  get  a  job  and  we  can  both 
be  freeer." 

"It  really  is  the  best  course  to  take,  I  guess,"  said 
Cecil,  who  thought  only  of  Sari's  welfare.  "It  would 
be  best  for  you  to  have  your  mother  at  a  time  like 
that  anyway." 

"Yes,  and  then  it  won't  take  over  three  quarters  of 
an  hour  from  our  house  on  the  south  side." 

"I  don't  think  it  will  even  take  that  long." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  149 


in 

Luck  was  with  the  young  De  Jonghes  in  this  new 
venture.  Before  Sari  was  up  the  next  morning,  and 
while  Cecil  was  out  buying  food  for  breakfast,  she 
was  called  to  the  telephone  by  the  musical  voiced 
Twee  tie. 

"Aow,  Messes  Di  Jung,  yow're  wunted  at  the  tale 
phone!" 

It  was  Mrs.  Harris,  suggesting  that  Sari  meet  Ward 
and  her  for  luncheon  downtown. 

"I  don't  feel  well,"  said  Sari,  "and  it's  a  horribly 
Cold  day.  Couldn't  you  and  Ward  come  out  here  to 
lunch?  You  know  you  can  take  a  taxi  and  get  here 
in  five  minutes,  and  I'll  have  luncheon  all  ready  for 
you." 

Mrs.  Harris  demurred  at  first,  but  Sari  was 
insistent  saying  that  she  particularly  wanted  to  see 
her  mother.  Mrs.  Harris  promised  to  be  there  at 
one  with  Ward. 

After  she  hung  up  the  receiver  Sari  remembered 
with  dismay  that  a  company  luncheon  costs  money. 
She  could  have  asked  them  to  come  in  the  afternoon, 
she  supposed,  but  Cecil  reassured  her,  saying  that  it 
couldn't  be  helped  now,  and  that  it  was  a  chance  for 
her  to  offer  to  go  home. 

"I  won't  need  to  offer,"  said  Sari,  suddenly  sob- 
bing. "I'll  be  invited  as  soon  as  mother  finds  out." 

Cecil  soothed  her  patiently,  and  tucked  her  back  in 
bed,  saying  that  he  would  go  out  again  and  do  the 
marketing  and  get  everything  ready  for  the  luncheon. 
He  prepared  a  breakfast  and  brought  it  in  to  her, 
watching  her  eat  anxiously. 

The  luncheon  passed  off  smoothly.    Sari  was  chatty 


ISO  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

about  their  trip  to  St.  Louis,  Cecil  silent.  Mrs.  Harris 
watched  Sari's  strained  eyes  closely,  but  it  was  not 
until  Sari  rose  suddenly  from  the  table,  and  bent  over 
the  sink,  that  her  mother  knew  positively  why  Sari 
had  been  ill  in  the  morning. 

Later,  when  Sari  was  lying  on  the  lounge  the  offer 
came  that  they  had  decided  to  accept. 

"We  will  get  a  taxi  and  you  must  come  right  home 
with  us,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Harris.  "I  won't  feel  right 
until  I  know  you  are  safely  at  home  with  me." 

"Oh,  I  can't  go  until  tomorrow,  anyway,  and  I 
shouldn't  until  the  end  of  the  week,"  protested  Sari. 

"You'll  come  now,"  said  her  mother  firmly. 

"Oh,  mother,  tomorrow.  We  have  so  much  pack- 
ing—" 

"Ward  can  do  it." 

"But  I'm  perfectly  well.  It  was  just  a  little  fit  of 
sickness." 

"Yes,  but  you  are  liable  to  have  more  little  fits  of 
sickness  from  now  on.  To  what  doctor  have  you 
been?" 

"I  haven't  been  to  any.  Today  is  practically  the 
first  time  I've  been  ill." 

"But,  but — "  Mrs.  Harris  had  thought  she  was  be- 
yond being  surprised  by  this  daughter,  but  this  out- 
raged her.  "Why  don't  you  know  you  should  be 
under  a  doctor's  care!  I  shall  call  in  Dr.  Smart  as 
soon  as  I  get  you  home,  tonight." 

"Oh,  mother,  please,  please.  I'll  come  the  first 
thing  hi  the  morning.  I  really  can't  make  that  long 
trip  today.  I  can't  stand  the  cold  and  the  trains  and 
the  walk  through  the  snow  from  the  station — " 

"We'll  get  a  taxi  and  drive  out." 

"I'd  rather  go  tomorrow." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  151 

"Will  you  come  the  first  thing,  and  let  Cecil  bring 
you  in  a  taxi?" 

"I  won't  need  a  taxi,  mother.  I'll  be  all  right  to- 
morrow. Listen,  I  know  what  we  can  do.  Mr. 
Bixby's  mother  has  a  little  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 
and  as  she's  out  of  town  Ward  can  stay  there  all  night, 
and  bring  me  in  the  morning!" 

"Yes,"  said  Ward,  "and  then  if  the  slightest  thing 
happens  I  can  call  a  doctor." 

"Cecil  takes  care  of  me  all  right,"  said  Sari,  pout- 
ing. Cecil  smiled  at  her,  eagerly  watching  her  face  as 
he  had  become  accustomed  to  doing  lately. 

She  could  not  bear  to  pass  a  night  away  from  Cecil. 

IV 

The  next  day  they  arrived  at  Lakeshore  at  about 
two  o'clock.  Sari  went  to  her  old  room  and  began 
changing  her  clothes.  She  was  interrupted  by  a  timid 
knocking  on  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  she  called.    Olive  hesitated  at  the  door. 

"Glad  to  see  you,"  said  Olive,  delightedly.  "Real 
pleased  to  see  you  back." 

"How  are  you,  Olive,"  said  Sari,  carelessly. 

"Real  well,  thank  you.  It's  right  lonesome  around 
here  with  all  you  girls  gone.  Miss  Nita  she's  gone  off 
to  college,  and  Miss  Dizzy,  she's  married — no,  no, 
Miss  Dizzy,  she's  gone  off  to  college,  that's  right." 

"Miss  Nita  is  in  New  York,"  said  Sari. 

"Let  me  see,"  Olive  cogitated.  "Yes,  that's  right. 
I  get  you  girls  all  mixed  up,  sometimes,  they's  so 
many  of  you.  Well,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  be  gettin'  on 
with  my  work."  She  sighed  and  moved  to  the  door. 
"Well,  I'm  glad  you're  back." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Sari,  taking  up  a  finger  nail  file. 


152  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Olive  closed  the  door,  then  opened  it  again  and  slyly 
peeped  in,  grinning  across  her  face.  "Misses  Sari, 
mind  you  have  a  boy!"  She  shook  her  finger  play- 
fully, then  apparently  considered  that  if  this  was  not 
Sari's  plan  she  might  be  giving  offense,  and  added, 
"Or  a  girl,  I  don't  care  which!"  and  closed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  VII 


"THE  unfortunate  thing  about  my  position  at  pres- 
ent," said  Sari,  who  was  sitting  in  her  room,  sewing 
and  talking  to  Ward,  "is  that  I  have  become  the  tar- 
get for  the  sympathetic  friends  of  mother.  They  come 
and  relate  their  experiences  to  me  with  the  excuse  that 
it  helps  me.  As  heroic  and  symbolic  woman  about  to 
present  the  nation  with  a  son  all  the  old  hens  of  Lake- 
shore  who  have  prophesied  that  I  would  end  on  the 
streets — " 

"Sari!" 

" — have  become  my  friends,  and  have  seized  the 
opportunity  of  telling  me  exactly  how  they  felt  at 
every  moment  during  the  nine  months  of  their  experi- 
ence. I've  never  said  one  word  to  encourage  them. 
Evidently  they  think  I  have  the  most  morbid  curiosity 
about  all  phases  of  the  birth  question.  That  crazy 
Mrs.  de  Remy  nearly  talked  me  nutty,  and  finally  just 
to  get  rid  of  her  and  not  to  seem  ungracious  I  said, 
'Oh  won't  you  give  me  treatments  Mrs.  de  Remy.' 
She  had  been  hinting  that  she  would  like  to,  you  know. 
And  I  thought,  bless  her  heart  they  can't  hurt  me,  let 
her.  Guess  what  she  said,  'All  right  dear,  only  won't 
you  try  and  love  more!'  Love  more?  I  want  to  know 
what  she  meant,  love  more." 

Sari's  surface  was  changing.  Revolt  had  given 
place  to  tolerant  amusement  in  her  expression.  Her 
inherent  simplicity  of  character,  her  talent  for  indi- 
vidual thinking  asserted  itself  as  she  dropped  her  old 

153 


154  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

characterizations,  and  became  definitely  herself.  It 
was  not  that  child-bearing  had  sobered  her,  but  she 
had  resigned  herself  to  months  of  quiet  waiting.  She 
began  to  read  everything  she  could  find  about  the 
development  of  the  foetus,  birth,  the  young  child. 

She  sat  with  Ward  for  long  hours  sewing.  A  kin- 
ship grew  out  of  these  silent  times  that  had  never 
before  existed  between  them.  Sari  began  to  take 
Nita's  place,  imperceptibly  in  Ward's  heart.  A  spirit- 
ual friendship  grew  up  between  them  almost  before 
either  realized  it. 

Ward  talked  of  Rod  to  Sari  very  often.  She  hardly 
tried  to  conceal  from  Sari  that  he  was  constantly  on 
her  mind.  At  first  Sari  urged  Ward  to  telegraph  Rod 
to  come  at  once,  then  to  write.  Why  should  Ward 
think  of  him  all  the  time,  and  yet  do  nothing  to  bring 
him  to  her  side?  Ward  even  told  Sari  her  fears  that 
perhaps  she,  too,  was  becoming  like  Mary  and  Helene, 
seeking  consolation  in  an  imaginary  affair.  When  Sari 
seemed  to  be  turning  this  version  of  the  question  over 
in  her  mind,  Ward  suddenly  said,  coloring,  "Rod  did 
love  me.  If  he  didn't  then  no  man  ever  loved  a  woman." 

Sari  was  not  moved.  She  still  sat  thinking.  "Ward, 
do  you  know  there's  something  I've  been  thinking 
about  for  a  long  time?  I've  been  turning  it  over  in 
my  mind." 

"About  me?" 

"Yes.  It's  hard  to  explain  why  I  feel  this.  But  it 
seems  true  to  me.  And  it  is  that  marriage  would 
never  do  for  you.  It  isn't  the  solution  of  life  for  you." 

"But  why?" 

"I  don't  know."  Sari  was  on  the  point  of  disappear- 
ing into  a  vague  manner  which  she  used  to  close  argu- 
ments. "It's  all  right  for  Nita  or  even  for  Dizzy,  but 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  155 

I  can't  imagine  you  married.  You  wouldn't  like  it, 
somehow;  I  can't  explain." 

"But  I  have  to  get  married.  I  feel  that  I  will.  You 
frighten  me  sort  of.  I  wish  you'd  say  what  you  mean. 
I'm  rather  worried." 

"It  isn't  for  you!" 

"It  all  depends  on  the  sort  of  man  you  marry." 
Ward's  manner  seemed  to  drop  distilled  wisdom. 
"He  has  to  be  unselfish,  broad,  tolerant,  and  self-con- 
trolled, in  addition  to  being  clean  and  honorable  and 
strong." 

"You  swallow  so  much  of  mother's  bunk,"  said 
Sari.  "The  real  hard  knocks  simply  can't  come  to  you. 
You're  engaged  to  a  man,  and  because  he  goes  off  and 
leaves  you  in  a  huff  about  something,  you  just  gently 
pine  away  upon  the  stem.  You'd  just  die  if  you  had 
to  go  through  some  of  the  ordinary  things  I've  gone 
through  without  thinking  about  them.  I  rather  like 
experiences  and  hard  knocks.  I  mean,  I  don't  regret 
anything.  I  guess  I'm  vulgar.  I'm  selfish,  too." 

Ward  flushed.    "I  don't  pretend  to  be  unselfish." 

"No,  but  you  try  to  be.  You  have  the  ideal  of 
being  unselfish.  And  it  handicaps  you,  darling.  It 
diffuses  your  energy  somehow." 

Ward,  uncomprehending  returned  to  the  subject 

"I  don't  know.  I  want  to  be  married.  But  I  am 
worried  about  different  things  like  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  and  birth  control." 

"Yes,  I  know.  Unpleasant  truths  worry  you  and 
confuse  you.  It's  right  for  you  to  have  lots  of  men 
worshipping  you — " 

"Boys!" 

"You  never  give  them  anything  except  a  vague  sweet 
breath  of  unreality,  a  feeling  that  life  is  beautiful  and 
romantic  and — " 


156  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"That's  something,  then,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  it's  a  lot,  of  course,  but  it  unfits  you  for  prac- 
tical life.  How  can  you,  for  instance,  get  on  a  train 
and  go  east  and  find  Rod,  and  ask  him  whether  he 
loves  you  or  not?  At  first  I  thought  that  was  the  only 
decent  thing  to  do  when  you  first  told  me.  It's  what 
I'd  do.  But  now,  I  see  that  you  can't,  and  I  see  why 
you  can't.  It's  more  fitting  somehow,  that  you  should 
poetically  pine." 

"Would  you  really  do  that,  Sari?" 

"Go  after  him?  Of  course  I  would.  If  I  loved  him. 
I'd  go  after  Cecil,  I  know  that.  But  maybe  I  wouldn't 
if  we'd  never  been  married.  I  didn't  love  him  then 
like  I  do  now.  It  was  all  fun,  and  I  thought  if  I 
didn't  like  him  I  could  easily  divorce  him — " 


II 


In  June  Dizzy  returned  from  Wharton.  Her  hair 
was  twisted  up  on  her  head,  and  she  no  longer  looked 
like  a  little  girl.  No  one  thought  of  her  as  being  only 
seventeen  except  her  mother.  When  she  put  on 
grown  up  clothes  Dizzy  grew  up.  There  was  never 
any  patronizing  of  her — she  had  no  such  struggle  to 
assert  herself  and  establish  a  place  for  herself  in  the 
adult  world  as  Sari  had. 

She  was  making  preparations  to  enter  summer 
school  at  the  University  of  Chicago  as  a  sophomore. 
She  had  not  only  made  all  her  freshman  credits  at 
Wharton,  but  she  had  made  them  with  good  grades. 
She  would  enter  the  University  of  Chicago  in  the  fall 
a  year  and  a  quarter  ahead  of  her  class,  and  by  attend- 
ing summer  school  each  summer  would  graduate  from 
college  in  two  more  years. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  157 


III 

Mrs.  Harris  found  a  poem  by  Edgar  Guest  in  a 
magazine:  "It  means  a  lot  to  be  a  dad."  She  clipped 
it  out  and  took  it  to  Sari,  who  could  use  it,  she 
thought,  in  awakening  Cecil  to  the  new  joy  that  was 
coming  to  him. 

"I'll  give  it  to  him,"  said  Sari  politely.  She  looked 
at  Dizzy  and  they  laughed,  to  the  astonishment  of 
Mrs.  Harris,  who  said: 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl  and  used  to  play  wedding 
with  my  dolls  I  always  played  that  the  next  day  my 
wedded  couple  had  a  baby.  That  was  the  proper  cli- 
max in  my  mind.  To  wait  for  it  had  no  part  in  my 
plan  of  the  ideal.  And  somehow,  even  yet,  notwith- 
standing all  I've  learned  of  the  blessedness  of  antici- 
pation, I  find  that  young  brides  have  to  wait  too  long 
for  that  disordering,  encumbering,  transfiguring  first 
baby!" 

Sari  rushed  from  the  room.  It  was  the  first  time 
she  had  shown  any  of  her  natural  fire. 

Mrs.  Harris  raised  an  eyebrow  to  indicate  to  Ward 
and  Dizzy  that  this  was  merely  one  of  the  phases  to 
months  that  follow,  it  is  a  wonder  that  many  of  the 
be  expected  in  Sari's  condition.  She  continued  plac- 
idly. "What  with  the  honeymoon,  and  the  long 
dear  young  things  weather  it  through  until  the  baby 
comes  to  take  their  minds  off  themselves  and  give  them 
an  absorbing  interest." 

"Mother,"  said  Dizzy  bluntly,  "you  ought  to  have 
more  sense  than  that.  This  idea  of  having  babies 
right  and  left  is  sheer  nonsense.  There  is  no  poetry 
about  it.  Do  you  know  that  there  are  more  hungry 
people  today  than  ever  before,  despite  the  fact  that 


158  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

for  years  the  workers  of  the  United  States  have  pro- 
duced vastly  more  food  than  was  necessary  to  feed 
the  populace.  If  we  can't  feed  all  the  people  we  now 
have  in  this  country  what  is  the  sense  in  going  on 
breeding  more  all  the  time.  The  economic  struggle 
is  growing  more  intense  all  the  time.  Overproduction 
of  babies  is  what  the  capitalists  want — " 

"Things  like  that  will  hardly  affect  your  sister  any- 
way," said  Mrs.  Harris. 

"They'll  affect  her  a  darn  sight  more  than  the  sweet 
poetic  thoughts  you've  been  springing  on  her  will." 

In  Sari  and  Dizzy  opinions  amounted  to  convic- 
tions, but  at  the  same  time,  they  assumed  that  they 
were  living  examples  of  the  figure  so  wise  that  he 
knows  that  he  knows  nothing.  This  humility,  so  hol- 
low that  it  rang  with  egotism  like  the  pigskin  of  a 
drum  thumped  with  a  stick,  was  polished  with  a  touch 
of  satirical  aloofness  to  things  about  which  they  were 
not  at  all  indifferent.  The  contemptuous  assurance 
that  their  ideas  were  reproachless  because  they  re- 
flected the  intellectual  mode  had  drawn  them  into 
sisterhood. 

IV 

Sari  and  Cecil  managed  to  "weather  it  through" 
without  the  disordering,  encumbering,  transfiguring 
baby  for  a  few  more  weeks,  in  spite  of  the  really 
serious  fact  that  the  theater  where  Cecil  worked  closed 
its  doors  and  he  lost  his  job.  Lakeshore  was  not  as 
much  concerned  over  this  as  it  might  have  been  if 
Cecil  had  been  Irish,  Chinese,  or  an  Arab.  They  all 
knew  that  Jews  have  mysterious  ways  of  hauling  huge 
fortunes  out  of  ash  cans,  and  no  one  felt  that  Sari 
really  would  suffer.  In  commiserating  with  each  other 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  159 

over  Sari's  ill  luck  in  marriage,  they  always  ended  by 
saying,  "Well,  at  any  rate,  she'll  always  be  well  taken 
care  of.  Jews  certainly  know  how  to  get  the  money." 

Cecil  showed  no  signs  of  this  famous  Jewish  talent. 
He  took  a  hard,  long  houred  temporary  job,  clerking. 
He  played  for  stray  dances,  accepting  small  wages  as 
he  was  not  a  member  of  the  Musicians'  Union;  and  his 
soul  suffered  over  accepting  money  for  his  wife  from 
Mrs.  Harris.  Though  no  one  but  Sari  guessed  this. 
Mrs.  Partridge  prophesied  that  he  would  get  all  Mrs. 
Harris'  money  away  from  her,  as  Jews  were  so  shrewd 
they  could  take  your  money  away  almost  without 
your  knowing  it. 

After  two  heart-breaking  weeks  he  finally  found  a 
place  playing  the  piano  in  a  ten  cent  store.  The 
wages  were  slightly  better,  the  hours  allowed  him  to 
spend  his  evenings  with  his  wife,  and  so  the  last  week 
before  the  baby  came  was  a  happier  one  for  both. 


On  July  7,  Tyndall  Harris  De  Jonghe  was  born. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


In  October  Dizzy  was  introduced  to  the  social  life 
of  the  University  of  Chicago.  A  few  weeks,  before  she 
was  to  enter  the  second  quarter  of  her  sophomore 
year  she  received  a  letter  from  a  member  of  the 
college  woman's  club  to  which  Anita  and  Ward 
belonged. 

Chicago,  Illinois. 

September  Three. 
"My  Dear  Miss  Harris: — 

"Knowing  Nita  and  Ward  so  well,  I  almost  said  my 
dear  Elizabeth,  but  decided  that  you  might  think  me 
too  forward.  However,  I  hope  we  will  soon  be  friends. 
The  dear  old  U.  has  so  willed  it  that  I  am  to  be  your 
upper  class  counselor.  That  sounds  formidable  but  it 
is  not,  really.  It  is  rather  difficult  for  a  newcomer  to 
find  his,  or  her,  way  about  the  campus,  to  know  where 
to  go  and  what  to  do,  as  well  as  what  not  to  do.  An 
upper  class  counselor's  duty  is  to  make  things  easier 
for  freshmen,  to  make  them  feel  at  home,  and  learn 
to  love  the  old  U.  just  as  ardently  as  anyone.  I  am 
to  escort  you  to  Mandel  Hall  on  Registration  Day  and 
to  do  anything  I  can  for  you.  It  would  probably  be 
just  as  well  were  we  to  meet  before  October  1  to  get 
acquainted. 

"I  should  be  glad  to  call  on  you  or  to  have  you  call 
on  me  if  you  would  prefer.  Just  drop  me  a  line.  I 
suppose  you  are  as  curious  about  me  as  I  am  about 

160 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  161 

you.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  look  like  so  your  mind  will 
be  at  ease.  I  look  more  like  a  giraffe  than  anything, 
owing  to  my  long,  long  neck.  I  have  the  most  beauti- 
fully curly  teeth  that  you  ever  saw,  but  alas!  the  only 
curl  to  my  hair  is  produced  by  the  aid  of  a  curling 
iron.  By  the  way,  my  hair  is  rather  mud  colorish  and 
my  eyes  match.  I'm  middling  tall  and  somewhat 
'skinnay'  albeit  I've  gained  six  pounds  this  summer. 
My  chief  warrant  for  distinction  is  my  great  fondness 
for  giggling  and  chocolates,  as  Ward  will  tell  you. 
Now  you  see  what  is  to  have  charge  of  poor  little  you 
until  you  can  care  for  yourself. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 
Helen  Marion  Barker." 

"I  must  submit  to  this,  I  suppose,"  thought  Dizzy 
to  herself,  indignantly.  "I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what 
she  can  do  for  me  but  I'll  be  civil  to  her  for  a  day 
or  so. 

The  author  of  the  letter  was  half  an  hour  late,  and 
Dizzy  had  nearly  given  her  up  when  she  appeared 
breathless  and  letting  out  a  stream  of  conversation: 

"My  dear,  I'm  sorry  to  be  late.  I'm  always  late. 
Let  me  see  who  your  Dean  is?  Oh,  Dean  Wallace. 
She  is  a  tall,  stately  lady,  with  the  nicest  eyes  and  the 
dearest  voice.  You'll  just  love  her.  Very  much  the 
correct  thing,  my  dear.  A  perfect  picture,  too.  Sort 
of  first  lady  of  the  landscape.  We've  got  to  go  and 
register.  Come  on,  you've  got  to  get  a  slip." 

She  pulled  the  outraged  Dizzy  across  the  campus, 
nodding  to  the  football  heroes,  basketball  champions, 
prom  leaders  and  other  famous  personages,  between 
her  spurts  of  conversation. 

"I  was  lucky  to  get  you,  my  dear.  I  drew  some 
impossible  creature's  name,  but  the  girl  just  ahead  of 


162  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

me  had  your  name  and  I  persuaded  her  to  cnange 
slips  with  me,  so  I  could  be  your  upper  class  coun- 
selor, knowing  Ward  and  Nita  so  well.  I  was  awfully 
glad  to  get  you  for  my  Freshman." 

"I'm  not  a  Freshman,"  said  Dizzy. 

"Oh,  yes,  my  dear,  I  know  all  about  it.  You're  a 
perfect  wiz.  Oh,  you'll  like  it  here.  It's  simply  in- 
spiring. Be  sure  and  get  Teddy  Lynn  in  English  if 
you  possibly  can.  My  dear,  he's  a  perfect  wiz.  I 
didn't  get  him  for  English  I.  I  got  a  horrid  creature 
named  Mr.  Chuz,  a  grade  student.  Look  out  for 
them.  They  shove  them  off  on  the  junior  college 
whenever  they  can." 

II 

It  was  not  long  before  Dizzy  extricated  herself 
from  the  social  life  at  the  University.  When  the  mem- 
bers of  the  club  to  which  Nita  and  Ward  belonged 
asked  her  to  join,  she  declined,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  members  who  were  accustomed  to  look  upon  their 
organization  as  the  epitome  of  the  desires  of  the  under- 
graduate woman.  Ward  protested  and  begged  her  to 
accept.  Enjoying  the  amazement  of  everyone,  she 
refused. 

"It's  really  because  I  haven't  the  time  to  waste  on 
those  extremely  rattle-brained  girls.  I'm  not  inter- 
ested in  playing  the  social  game.  It  might  be  interest- 
ing if  it  were  different  from  any  other  snobbish  society, 
but  I  can  see  the  same  self-imposed  burden  of  aristoc- 
racy anywhere.  I  don't  care  to  weigh  myself  down 
with  the  idea  that  I  have  a  position  to  maintain  as  a 
member  of  the  best  club  on  the  campus." 

"But  it  looks  like  a  criticism  of  us,  not  to  take  it." 

"Why?    It  might,  if  I  intended  to  take  some  other 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  165 

club.  But  I  don't.  Besides  there  are  plenty  of  girls 
at  the  University  who  are  just  as  desirable  and  more 
so  than  I,  who  are,  for  some  silly  reason  not  asked  to 
join  a  club.  I  simply  throw  in  whatever  weight  I  have 
on  the  side  of  the  girls  who  can't  get  in.  Any  girl  who 
turns  a  club  down  raises  by  a  degree  the  social  stand- 
ing of  the  girls  who  can't  get  in,  don't  you  think?" 

Ward  did  not  think  so.  She  felt  humiliated,  and  as 
if  her  friends  on  the  campus  had  been  slapped  in  the 
face.  Girls  whose  whole  ideal  was  democracy,  and 
who  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  raise  the  standards 
of  the  school,  to  be  branded  as  snobs!  It  was  too  bad 
of  Dizzy.  Not  that  the  girls  would  care,  she  told 
Dizzy,  but  it  was  a  disgrace  to  the  Harris  family. 
Nita  writing  from  New  York,  thought  so,  too. 

But  Dizzy  did  not  join  a  club. 

Ill 

Dizzy's  intellectual  brilliancy  in  the  classroom  at- 
tracted one  or  two  inferior  masculine  intellects.  They 
invited  Dizzy  out,  and  argued  with  her  and  admired 
her.  The  attractive  fraternity  men  of  the  class  who 
had  been  Ward's  swains  let  her  alone,  after  her  deci- 
sion not  to  take  a  club  was  made  public.  She  had  not 
enough  attraction  for  them  to  make  them  seek  her  out. 
Besides  she  knew  very  few  of  them  outside  her  class- 
room. 

Dizzy  had  grown  into  a  reasonably  pretty  girl.  Her 
blonde  hair,  which  curled  in  deep,  even  waves  as  if 
she  had  just  had  a  fresh  marcel,  her  hazel  eyes,  which 
often  looked  black,  gave  her  an  appearance  both  un- 
usual and  fashionable.  She  was  a  trifle  under  medium 
height  with  small  delicate  features  and  a  rose  leaf 
quality  in  her  skin. 


164  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Toward  the  end  of  the  year,  she  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  a  youngster  who  was  in  her  English 
class.  He  wrote  things  that  she  liked.  He  admired 
her  very  much.  They  lunched  together  frequently. 
But  Dizzy  was  awkward  about  making  it  appear  that 
their  friendship  was  purely  platonic.  The  young  man 
had  no  such  notion,  but  he  had  not  the  courage  to  tell 
Dizzy  so.  One  warm  night  they  walked  down  on  the 
beach  talking  about  satire  in  the  Victorian  novel.  In 
the  moonlight,  the  young  man  tried  to  kiss  her.  She 
repulsed  him,  with  a  flat  feeling.  It  seemed  so  banal 
to  her,  though  such  a  thing  had  never  happened  before. 

She  never  saw  him  again. 

IV 

In  the  meantime  that  year  had  brought  changes  for 
Sari.  Cecil  had  got  the  offer  of  a  job  to  go  with  a 
vaudeville  sketch  playing  the  ukelele  and  the  cornet. 
The  money  had  been  so  much  better  that  he  had  felt 
that  he  dare  not  refuse.  Sari  had  remained  at  home 
and  he  had  gone  on  the  road  playing  Rockford, 
Racine,  Kankakee,  and  similar  towns  three  nights  a 
week,  then  jumping  to  the  next  town.  When  he  was 
near  enough  to  Chicago,  as  when  he  played  Elgin,  he 
came  home  to  see  Sari. 

In  April  Mrs.  Harris  and  Ward  discovered  that  Sari 
was  expecting  another  baby  in  September.  Shortly 
after,  Cecil's  act  broke  up  and  he  came  home  to  make 
the  round  of  vaudeville  agencies  and  movie  houses. 
He  was  lucky  enough  to  get  a  job  playing  in  the  Lake- 
shore  movie  at  twenty-five  dollars  a  week.  He  also 
got  a  short-houred  clerical  job  at  the  steel  mills  which 
paid  him  fifteen  dollars  a  week. 

In  June,  Nita  wrote  that  she  was  coming  home.    She 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  165 

and  Howard  had  arranged  to  be  married  in  August. 
She  would  buy  a  few  of  her  things  in  New  York,  but 
most  of  them  she  wanted  to  have  Ward  help  her  select. 
J/fary,  Helene  and  Ward  all  looked  forward  with 
eagerness  to  her  coming,  and  all  planned  for  her 
wedding. 


Nothing  of  much  importance  occurred  to  Nita  in 
New  York.  She  did  not  even  learn  that  she  was  not 
an  artist.  She  sold  a  number  of  drawings  to  adver- 
tising firms,  and  studied  fairly  hard.  She  was  the 
center  and  confident  of  a  number  of  other  girl  art 
students,  all  of  whom  were  more  popular  with  men 
than  Nita,  and  all  of  whom  Nita  patronized  because 
their  affairs  had  not  the  pure  flavor  of  her  own.  She 
made  a  fourth  on  many  parties  arranged  by  other 
girls,  but  had  only  one  conquest  during  her  stay  of 
nearly  two  years.  That  was  a  pale  slender  young 
architect  who  sent  her  flowers  and  whose  attentions 
she  accepted  because  her  allowance  and  income  from 
her  work  did  not  buy  her  as  many  dinners  in  first  class 
places  as  she  wanted. 

She  wrote  to  Howard  every  week,  and  kept  a  copy 
of  every  letter  she  sent  him.  He  wrote  every  week, 
and  occasionally  oftener.  He  sent  her  many  pictures 
of  himself,  snapshots,  sketches,  and  photographs.  All 
the  girls  she  knew,  knew  about  Howard.  They  all 
thought  it  an  ideal  match.  Nita  herself  thought  so. 


CHAPTER  IX 

I 

THE  hot  days  of  July  waxed  uncomfortably  for  Sari. 
The  pleasant  excitement  that  had  attended  the  birth  of 
Tyndall  was  absent  hi  the  coming  of  this  second  child. 
Lakeshore  felt  that  she  really  should  have  restrained 
herself  from  having  another  baby.  The  first  might  be 
excused  on  the  ground  of  extreme  youth,  but  to  have 
a  second!  The  hope  that  it  would  be  a  girl  was  the 
only  mitigating  ray  in  the  general  depression  of  the 
neighborhood  about  Sari. 

Nita  came  home  during  the  last  week  of  the  month 
very  smart,  with  much  new  baggage  and  a  half  dozen 
New  York  gowns,  requiring  to  be  totally  outfitted  in 
lingerie.  Ward  and  Mrs.  Harris  busily  and  happily 
prepared  for  a  shopping  festival.  Both  of  them  were 
happy  in  the  thought  of  outfitting  Nita  for  her 
nuptials. 

Sari  had  not  forgiven  Nita  for  the  telegram,  though 
it  had  furnished  her  with  a  pretext  for  marriage;  a 
fact  that  neither  she  nor  Cecil  realized.  So  a  slight 
constraint  heightened  by  Sari's  open  lack  of  interest  in 
the  wedding  preparations  was  apparent  between  the 
two,  after  the  first  flush  of  greeting  had  died. 

Dizzy,  too,  was  bored  by  Nita's  simple  prepara- 
tions and  shut  herself  up  to  study  whenever  family 
discussions  turned  on  this  subject,  which  was  most  of 
the  time. 

Nita,  herself,  was  rather  flurried,  wondering 
^whether,  after  all,  Howard  was  the  right  man,  yet 

166 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  167. 

knowing  all  the  time  that  she  was  going  to  marry  him. 
A  slight  breach  had  taken  place  between  them  when 
he  had  suggested  that  she  come  west  to  marry  him, 
as  his  vacation  was  to  be  so  short  that  he  would  be 
compelled  to  spend  all  his  time  traveling.  Nita  had 
written  angrily  that  he  had  transgressed  a  law  of 
chivalry  that  had  existed  from  time  immemorial:  the 
prince  must  fetch  his  bride. 


II 


The  wedding  was  to  be  simple,  quiet.  With  no  one 
outside  the  family  it  was  to  take  place  in  the  living 
room,  at  noon,  and  the  young  married  couple  were  to 
go  on  west  by  an  afternoon  train. 

Nita  was  secretly  agitated  about  Sari's  appearance. 
She  hated  the  thought  that  Howard  would  have  to  see 
her.  She  snobbishly  dreaded  having  him  find  out  that 
Sari  had  married  a  Jew. 

"I  wish  father  could  have  lived  to  marry  me,"  said 
Anita,  two  days  before  the  wedding. 

"Father!"  said  Dizzy.  "What  do  you  know  of 
father.  You  picture  him  as  a  doddering  old  fellow 
who  would  go  around  saying,  'It  was  on  an  August 
day  just  like  this  that  your  mother  made  me  the  hap- 
piest of  men,  or  it  was  just  twenty-six  years  ago  today 
that  your  mother  first  looked  into  my  eyes  and  surren- 
dered.' That's  the  way  you  picture  him,  as  a  senti- 
mental old  ass  in  the  best  mother  tradition!" 

"And  you  picture  him  as  an  appendix  to  the  Ency- 
clopedia Brittanica." 

"He  was  probably  both  since  he  begat  both  you  and 
Diz,"  said  Sari. 

"You  think  I'm  sentimental?"  asked  Nita. 


168  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Certainly,  I  do." 

"You  and  Dizzy  are  the  sentimental  ones.  Dizzy 
thinks  she's  going  to  be  the  greatest  writer  of  her  gen- 
eration. Sari  thinks  she'll  be  something  else,  heaven 
knows  what.  And  you  sit  and  talk  about  it  in  the 
most  serious  way." 

"If  there  was  only  some  way  to  knock  you  over  the 
head,  Anita,  and  make  you  realize  that  all  serious 
thought  is  not  ridiculous.  As  long  as  ideas  are  old  and 
reliable  you  are  willing  to  talk  about  them.  But  the 
minute  anything  comes  up  that  isn't  shopworn  you 
begin  to  jeer  and  call  it  quee^  " 

The  talk  was  becoming  warm.    Nita  was  irritated. 

"Queer  ideas  are  nothing  more  than  soft  spots.  I 
hate  soft  spots.  I  hate  people  who  are  not  quite  all 
there.  People  who  do  things  to  disgrace  them- 
selves— " 

"Do  you  mean  me?"  asked  Sari. 

"Well,  Sari,  you  have  disgraced  yourself,  since  you 
ask  me.  You  have  disgraced  mother,  and  I — I  feel 
disgraced." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  at  any  rate  that  I  haven't  disgraced 
Dizzy  and  Ward,"  said  Sari  cheerfully. 

"You  don't  care,"  went  on  Nita,  bitterly  urged  by 
Sari's  flippancy.  "You  don't  care  that  my  wedding 
has  to  be  disgraced  by  your  dirty  little  Jew — " 

"So  that's  it!"  Sari  rose  to  her  feet  thoroughly 
angry.  "Now  I  see  why  you've  been  so  mean  ever 
since  I  came  home." 

Dizzy  looked  at  Nita  and  spoke  with  an  even,  insult- 
ing accent. 

"Nita  has  no  principles  herself,  so  it's  obviously  on 
Howard's  account  that  she  objects.  I'm  glad  that  she 
has  placed  Howard  in  his  proper  niche.  It's  only  the 
extremely  stupid  who  are  anti-Semitic  these  days." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  169 

"Of  course,"  said  Sari.  "How  stupid  I've  been  not 
to  guess  that  she's  never  told  Howard  Blackton  that 
Cecil  is  a  Jew,  and  she  doesn't  want  him  to  find  out." 

She  turned  her  back  on  Nita  and  shivered.  "Oh, 
you  snob!"  She  sent  a  glance  over  her  shoulder  of 
physical  disgust.  "Well,  you  needn't  worry.  We'll 
not  be  here  for  the  wedding." 

She  left  the  room. 

Dizzy  and  Nita  looked  at  each  other. 

"She's  absolutely  right,  Nita.  You're  a  rotten 
snob." 

Nita  looking  somewhat  dashed,  put  on  her  kitten- 
in-the-cream  laugh.  "I  know  it.  I  am  a  snob.  I  just 
can't  bear  to  have  Howard  know.  And  yet  I  suppose 
I'll  have  to  make  the  best  of  it." 

"She  said  she  wouldn't  be  here  for  the  wedding, 
and  I  have  an  idea  that  she  means  to  keep  her  word." 

"Oh  well,  where  can  she  go?  Of  course  she'll  be 
here." 


Ill 


An  hour  later  Sari  came  down  dressed  for  the 
street,  with  little  Tyndall  dressed  and  bonneted. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Ward,  who  had  been 
told  about  Nita's  remarks. 

"I'm  leaving,"  said  Sari  cheerfully. 

"Oh  Sari!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"You  don't  mean,  you're  really  leaving?  Leaving 
home,  I  mean." 

"You  said  it,  kid.    I'm  leaving  the  old  homestead." 

"But  darling,  you  haven't  any  money.  Think! 
Don't  be  silly !  You  can't ! " 


170  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Don't  be  a  little  fool,  Sari,"  said  Dizzy.  "Just 
because  Nita  proves  she's  a  pig.  We've  always  all 
known  it  anyway.  This  is  only  one  manifestation 
of  the  colossal  selfishness  she's  always  displayed." 

Nita  treated,  and  indeed  thought  of,  this  remark  as 
part  of  Dizzy's  queerness.  She  was  very  white.  "I 
apologize,  Sari.  Don't  go  away." 

"Your  apology  should  be  to  Cecil,"  said  Sari  coldly. 
"You  owe  me  nothing.  And  if  you  did,  you'd  never 
get  a  chance  to  pay  it  because  you'll  never  see  me 
again." 

"Oh  Sari,  you  can't  keep  your  threat  to  go?  In 
your  condition."  It  was  wrung  from  Nita.  The  other 
two  waited  anxiously  for  her  answer. 

She  said  nothing,  only  pointed  to  Cecil  who  was 
staggering  down  the  stairs  with  two  heavy  bags. 

"But  Sari,  where  will  you  go?    You  have  no  money." 

"Her  dirty  little  Jew  will  take  care  of  her,"  said 
Cecil. 

This  bit  of  melodrama  brought  the  tears  to  Ward's 
eyes,  and  brought  satisfaction  into  the  bosom  of  the 
De  Jonghe  family,  gilding  their  departure  for  Cecil's 
aunt's. 

Ward  went  to  the  window  and  watched  them  climb 
into  a  taxi  through  her  tears.  She  had  grown  very 
close  to  Sari,  closer  than  she  was  to  Nita.  She  could 
not  help  blaming  Nita  in  her  heart.  She  longed  to  go 
with  them.  She  would  miss  the  baby  so. 

When  her  mother  came  home  from  a  meeting  of 
the  Woman's  club,  it  was  Ward  who  broke  the  news 
to  her.  Nita  had  shut  herself  up  in  her  room,  and 
Dizzy  had  gone  to  walk  along  the  lake  shore.  Mrs. 
Harris  went  to  bed,  sick  with  fear  for  Sari's  safety, 
nor  did  she  recover  for  the  wedding. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  171 


IV 


This  event  cast  a  shadow  over  Nita's  wedding. 

Mrs.  Harris  grew  worse  as  the  days  drew  near  for 
the  wedding.  When  a  short  note  came  to  her  from 
Sari  saying  that  she  was  all  right  and  would  go  to  a 
hospital  soon,  Mrs.  Harris  rallied  spiritually,  but  her 
body  responded  slowly. 

And  so  Nita,  in  riding  away  beside  the  prince,  did 
not  divulge  to  him  that  his  future  sons  would  have 
Jewish  cousins.  Before  she  left  her  girlhood  behind 
she  wrote  three  resolutions  neatly  in  a  little  book  for 
her  future  guidance: 

(1)  To  say  nothing  mean  about  anybody  or  any- 
thing. 

(2)  To  tell  the  truth,  and  avoid  even  social  fibs  if 
possible. 

(3)  To  be  spontaneous.    Not  self-conscious. 
With  these  she  hoped  to  conquer  California. 


Said  Mrs.  Harris:  "It's  a  wonderful  thing  that  slips 
of  girls  like  Nita  are  always  turning  their  backs  on 
all  they've  known  and  learned  to  trust,  and  faring 
forth  into  a  strange  land  with  a  strange  companion. 
God  only  knows  how  much  the  world  owes  to  that 
daring  of  ignorance,  and  innocence  and  love.  There's 
something  sublime  about  it,  that  going  without  stop- 
ping to  question.  I  couldn't  do  it  now  as  I  did  when 
I  was  a  child  like  Nita.  But  I  can  admire  her  for 
doing  it.  But  why  did  I  suffer  all  that  lonesomeness 
for  if  not  to  understand  my  children?" 


172  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

The  first  letter  from  her  caused  some  excitement 
even  to  Dizzy. 

"Let's  see  what  Nita  has  to  say  and  how  she  likes 
matrimony,"  said  Ward.  "Aren't  you  anxious  to 
hear?" 

"Interested  to  see  if  the  impressions  I  have  formed 
of  what  she  will  say  is  correct,"  said  Dizzy.  "She'll 
say  that  marriage  is  wonderful  and  solves  most  of  the 
social  problems  or  something  of  the  sort.  Read  and 
see." 

"Dearest  Dizzy  and  Ward: 

"I'm  as  purry  and  pleased  and  contented  and  smug- 
gish  as  I  can  be.  I  read  Mrs.  Farmer's  'Boston  Cook 
Book'  and  consider  it  a  great  piece  of  literature. 
Howard  treats  me  so  much  like  a  real  mother  treats 
her  first  child  that  I  almost  catch  myself  oogly-gooing 
at  him.  Won't  I  be  a  mess  at  this  rate. 

"California  is  gloriously  wonderful.  That  is,  the 
southern  part.  It  makes  Chicago  seem  like  a  grizzled, 
hard  old  financier  who  says  'ain't'  and  makes  mil- 
lions, and  Santa  Barbara  is  the  Gaby  Deslys  he  spends 
it  on. 

"An  oil  lease  is  unique  and  unbromidic,  only  that 
they  are  now  so  civilized  they  have  lost  all  talking 
points.  We  live  right  in  the  foothills  with  mountains 
behind.  The  men  look  as  though  any  moment  they 
might  ask  for  the  next  dance.  The  company  is  fi- 
nanced by  eastern  money,  and  there  are  Bostonians 
and  New  Yorkers  all  over  the  place.  The  oil  company 
buildings  are  green  and  white,  and  the  houses  are  really 
charming.  Ours  is  like  six  sun  parlors,  all  French 
doors,  windows  and  porches,  cream  walls,  black  floors, 
yellow  painted  furniture  and  white  wicker. 

"The  ocean  is  just  fifteen  miles  away  and  in  our  one 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  173 

week  at  home  we  went  down  several  times  to  swim 
and  dance.  I  drive  Howard  to  work  every  morning 
in  the  car,  and  then  I  can  spend  the  day  at  the  beach 
if  I  want  to.  There  are  many  hotels  and  road  houses 
along  the  way  and  so  when  Ward  comes  we  can  play 
together  a  lot.  The  company  house,  gasoline,  gas, 
electricity,  Jap  maid  service  and  yard  man  come  free, 
and  the  company  runs  the  dining  rooms  in  dining  car 
style.  So  I  haven't  a  thing  to  do. 

"I  liked  it  last  week  as  I  had  a  few  illustrations  to 
send  to  New  York,  but  I  feel  that  in  another  week 
I'll  be  in  Los  Angeles  looking  for  some  illustrating 
to  do. 

"Ward,  dear,  I  believe  all  the  kicking,  yearning  young 
things  we  used  to  say  down  on  the  beach  show  how 
mysteriously  off  the  track  the  unmarried  are.  They 
are  the  problematical,  cryptic,  uninteresting  outfit.  I 
don't  see  how  Shaw  and  Bennett  talked  so  earnestly 
with  knitted  brows  over  matrimony,  if  they  married 
old  style — unless  it  is  to  whet  the  interest  of  the 
thoughtful  young.  For  just  get  married  and  the  world 
unkinks,  the  clouds  roll  away,  and  you  are  all  ready 
to  really  begin  to  do  something. 

"I'm  glad  I  had  sense  enough  to  stick  to  Howard. 
I  feel  as  if  I've  done  exactly  what  I'm  supposed  to  do 
and  that  life  couldn't  be  anything  but  jolly  and  pros- 
perous and  stimulating.  It  should  be  easy  to  do  with 
it  what  one  might  choose,  and  it  seems  impossible  to 
jar  any  uncongeniality  into  Howard  and  me.  Write 
soon,  darling,  both  of  you,  and  let  me  hear  how  you 
are  getting  along. 

Love,  NITA." 

T 

"Sickening,"  ejaculated  Dizzy.  "What  did  I  tell 
you?  She's  incurably  sentimental  and  righteous.  She 


174  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

could  never  make  a  mistake  and  the  bourgeois  horror 
of  her  adventure  has  been  colored  by  her  imagination. 
She  mistakes  an  automobile  and  a  house  with  French 
windows  for  spiritual  setting — the  beefish  caresses  of 
her  Howard  for  love.  Sickening." 

"Oh  Dizzy,"  protested  Ward.  "I  think  it's  wonder- 
ful. I  really  do.  It's  my  idea  of  real  romance." 

"Ward,"  said  Dizzy  earnestly.  "I  used  to  think 
when  I  was  younger — I  did  underestimate  you  to  the 
degree  that  I  would  take  it  for  granted  that  you  might 
think  of  matrimony  as  a  course,  and  of  eligible  peo- 
ple as  'prospects.'  But  I  know  now  that  you  are 
above  that  sort  of  thing.  I  would  rather  see  you  an 
old  maid  than  married  as  Nita  was;  to  fall  'in  love' 
because  it  was  an  easy  and  pleasant  thing  to  do.  Such 
marriages,  draped  about  with  a  sense  of  unreality — a 
false  beauty — have  little  real  love  in  them.  Marriage 
to  regular  people  is  having  to  marry  a  specific  person. 
Nita  was  twenty-two.  She  began  to  worry  about  a 
husband.  Howard  Blackton  appeared  and  she  took 
him.  So  don't  be  fooled  into  a  sort  of  sentimental 
envy  for  Nita." 


CHAPTER  X 


ON  Michigan  avenue  in  the  ornate  apartment  of 
Cecil's  aunt  little  Cecil  first  heard  the  sound  of  motors 
buzzing  by.  He  would  lie  in  his  luxurious  bassenet, 
handed  down  from  one  of  his  black-eyed  second  cou- 
sins, hugging  his  bottle,  black  brows  bent  angrily  on 
the  view  down  the  street — he  was  not  sweet-natured 
like  Tyndall, — sniffing  the  smell  of  gasoline  from  the 
boulevard  with  marked  disgust. 

"J  love  this  baby,"  Sari  once  told  Cecil  defiantly. 
"I  didn't  want  Tyndall  a  bit  and  I  rather  resented 
him,  but  everyone  was  so  nice  about  his  coming  that  I 
think  really  at  bottom  Tyn-tin's  coming  was  rather  a 
satisfaction  to  me.  But  this  baby,  everyone  has  been 
so  idiotic  about  it,  as  if  I  might  have  been  expected 
to  have  one,  but  that  two  was  too  much.  As  if  I1  could 
help  it.  Poor  baby!" 

"We  mustn't  have  another,"  said  Cecil.  "Simply 
can't.  Lord  knows  how  we're  going  to  support  this 
one." 

"Cecil  dear,  it's  a  rotten  mess  you're  in.  If  I'd 
guessed — " 

"Oh  no.    I'm  glad.    It's  only  money.    That's  all." 

"I  know." 

"Not  many  people  who  have  been  married  as  long 
as  we — still  care." 

They  both  firmly  believed  this.  Their  love  was 
unique.  It  had  weathered  storms  hitherto  unheard 

175 


176  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

of.  No  other  young  people  had  ever  before  faced  the 
poverty,  the  sneers,  the  overwhelming  and  unexpected 
family  life  that  they  had  stood  up  to  shoulder  to 
shoulder.  Sari  was  not  the  wonderful  girl  to  Cecil,  the 
glamourous  fairy  that  she  had  seemed  when  he  first 
heard  that  she  was  a  real  actress,  but  she  had  become 
solid  and  eternal,  part  of  his  life,  like  his  mother.  To 
Sari  he  was  no  longer  a  mysterious  being.  He  was 
just  Cecil.  Her  life  with  him  did  not  appear  like  a 
series  of  dates.  Other  men  were  to  flirt  with,  not 
Cecil,  but  still  Cecil  was  something  more,  her  oldest 
baby,  perhaps. 

A  connection  of  Cecil's  in  New  Orleans  who  owned 
a  theater  offered  Cecil  a  salary  that  they  could  live  on 
down  there,  playing  the  piano.  So  in  November  of 
that  year,  when  Tyn-tin  was  sixteen  months  and  Junior 
two  months  they  packed  up  and  went  South  to  live. 
With  sadness  Sari's  family  saw  them  off.  Ward  and 
Dizzy  were  both  depressed  at  the  separation.  Desola- 
tion settled  on  Mrs.  Harris.  She  wanted  to  keep  Tyn- 
dal,  but  they  didn't  know  when  they  would  be  back  in 
the  north,  and  they  thought  the  southern  climate 
would  be  good  for  him  during  the  winter.  He  was  a 
delicate  child. 

In  New  Orleans  they  lived  adventurously  and  fell 
in  with  a  set  of  artists,  writers  who  confidently  ex- 
pected to  become  great  some  day,  and  meanwhile  com- 
mitted all  the  absurdities  of  the  fictional  Bohemian. 
Sari's  stage  ambitions  revived  and  she  took  to  acting 
in  a  very  inferior  little  theater,  and  flirting  harmlessly 
with  the  men  of  the  crowd.  Cecil  never  objected, 
never  retaliated.  He  had  a  theory  that  jealousy  and 
love  weren't  compatible.  Outwardly  at  least,  he  lived 
up  to  it.  He  was  devoted  to  the  children. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  177 


II 

Mrs.  Harris,  with  two  daughters  gone  away,  fell  into 
a  state  of  chronic  invalidism,  from  a  variety  of  causes 
— the  most  obvious  one,  her  constant  fretting.  She 
gave  up  the  greater  part  of  her  church  activities,  and 
instead  of  encouraging  social  groups  to  form  in  her 
house,  as  she  had  formerly  done,  became  impatient, 
even  jealous  of  Ward's  friends.  She  did  not  want 
Ward  to  marry  and  leave  her.  Ward,  through  her 
sweetness  and  devotion  to  her  mother  almost  fell  into 
the  position  that  Helene  Partridge  occupied  in  her 
home. 

Sentiment,  thoroughly  grounded  ideas  of  self-sacri- 
fice, the  popular  ideal  of  spreading  sunshine  were 
Ward's  foot-hold  during  those  days. 

And  dreams  of  Rod,  hopeless  dreams,  almost  filled 
in  the  blank  spaces  in  her  dull  life.  For  life  was  very 
dull.  There  were  beaux,  a  few,  a  couple  of  faithfuls 
from  her  University  days,  a  young  man  in  the  neigh- 
borhood who  wore  marvelous  and  stunning  vests,  and 
talked  about  them  most  of  the  time,  an  occasional  new 
man  that  she  would  meet.  None  of  them  held  her  in- 
terest. Once  her  mother  had  thought  of  buying  a  car, 
and  Ward  had  been  drawn  to  the  good-looking,  tweed- 
suited  young  salesman  who  brought  out  a  Cadillac 
coupe  that  had  been  used  one  season.  He  started  an 
immediate  love  affair  with  Ward,  progressing  swiftly 
and  passionately  to  an  embrace  in  the  back  of  the  car, 
the  first  night  he  took  her  out.  Ward  was  revolted 
and  outraged,  stunned  by  the  manner  of  it.  She  ex- 
perienced a  Puritan  re-action,  and  dismissed  him. 

Dizzy  and  Ward  had  little  in  common.  Dizzy 
studied,  came  to  meals,  and  disappeared  to  study.  At 


178  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

intervals  she  wrote  but  she  never  showed  her  work. 
In  January  she  entered  her  fourth  year  at  the  Univer- 
sity. She  had  attended  summer  school  steadily,  and 
would  take  her  degree  at  the  end  of  the  next  summer 
quarter.  It  was  during  this  quarter  that  she  took  a 
course  with  Robert  Herrick  and  worked  as  she  had 
never  worked  before.  Worked!  Toiled  over  her 
study  table,  walked  the  floor,  left  the  house  and 
tramped  up  and  down  on  the  walk  before  the  raging 
winter  lake,  thinking,  trying  to  turn  herself  inside  out. 
Now  and  then  she  had  ecstatic  moments  of  triumph. 
She  was  really  getting  somewhere,  she  would  hug  her- 
self and  exult.  And  then  again  tramp,  tramp,  tramp 
by  the  waters,  looking  out  at  the  leaden  gray,  foam 
tossed  body,  harried  no  less  than  her  own  soul  from 
the  thought  that  would  not  come.  Perhaps  those  were 
the  most  glorious  days  of  Dizzy's  life.  And  yet  she 
lived  them  completely  alone. 


Ill 


Dizzy  finished  school  and  got  a  job  almost  imme- 
diately with  the  City  Press.  A  trifling,  piffling  kind 
of  job  that  irritated  her,  tired  her,  mocked  at  her. 
She  had  to  haunt  the  courts  and  report  bits  of  news, 
scandal,  divorces,  suits  about  property.  In  the  jargon 
of  the  reporters  she  "did"  the  courts.  There  was 
no  chance  of  any  writing.  She  simply  set  down  the 
facts  according  to  a  formula  when  she  was  allowed  to 
write  them.  Often  she  just  telephoned  them  in  to  the 
office. 

In  Chicago,  the  City  press  covers  most  of  the  rou- 
tine news  for  all  of  the  papers.  A  staff  of  reporters 
detailed  to  police  stations,  courts,  hospitals,  send  the 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  179 

news  to  the  Central  office  within  a  few  moments  of  its 
occurrence.  The  news  is  then  shot  through  automatic 
tubes  into  every  local  room  in  the  city.  And  all  the 
important  stories  are  then  given  to  newspaper  report- 
ers to  investigate  and  write  about  by  the  city  editors. 
Only  occasionally  Dizzy  saw  the  thing  that  she  had 
written  in  print. 


IV 


Nita  had  been  married  a  year  by  this  time.  She 
was  happy  and  faintly  patronizing  to  the  rest  of  her 
family.  She  drove  her  own  car,  and  painted  in  an 
amateur  way.  She  hoped  to  become  a  contributor  to 
Life. 

That  fall  Mrs.  Harris  became  worse.  She  developed 
chronic  bronchitis,  and  coughed  so  alarmingly  that 
they  had  her  examined  for  tuberculosis  of  the  lungs. 
She  was  sound,  but  the  doctor  advised  her  not  to  spend 
the  winter  in  Chicago.  She  was  rejoiced  to  have  the 
opportunity  of  visiting  Nita.  It  was  settled  that  she 
was  to  go  to  California  the  first  of  January. 

Nita  was  now  almost  twenty-six  years  old,  and  had 
been  married  about  a  year  and  a  half.  In  June  she 
was  to  present  that  rising  young  engineer,  Howard 
Blackton,  with  a  son  and  heir.  The  sex  a  foregone 
conclusion.  Nita  did  things  that  way.  The  girl  who 
was  to  grow  up  to  be  nice  and  correct  and  without  any 
of  the  impractical  artistic  notions  that  Nita  supposed 
herself  to  possess  was  to  come  about  a  year  later. 
Thus  they  planned. 

Ward  longed  to  go  too,  but  Dizzy  refused  to  hear  of 
leaving.  She  had  been  promised  a  job  on  the  Times 
the  first  of  the  year,  and  she  considered  it  the  best 


180  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

paper  in  the  country.  Dizzy  was  barely  twenty  and 
her  mother  would  not  leave  her  alone  in  a  city  reputed 
to  be  as  wicked  as  Chicago.  So  it  was  arranged  that 
she  and  Ward  were  to  take  a  small  apartment  in  a  re- 
spectable family  hotel  on  Lincoln  park. 

And  so  Mrs.  Harris  left  fairly  happy  in  the  prospect 
of  seeing  her  oldest  daughter  after  a  period  of  almost 
two  years.  They  rented  the  house  in  Lakeshore  and 
dismissed  Olive. 

"I  hate  to  part  with  her,"  said  Ward — "because  I'm 
actually  getting  her  trained.  She  never  does  any- 
thing unless  she's  told.  I've  impressed  that  much  on 
her.  When  I  say,  'Now,  wash  the  dishes,  Olive,'  she 
washes  the  dishes.  And  she  does  them  well.  She's 
slow,  but  she's  thorough,  if  you  direct  her  properly. 
When  I  say,  'put  on  the  squash,  Olive,'  she  puts  on  the 
squash,  but  she  doesn't  put  on  the  potatoes,  too,  unless 
I  say,  Tut  on  the  potatoes,  Olive!'  And  so  she's 
gradually  getting  to  be  of  service  to  me.  Her's  is 
strictly  a  one-track  mind.  She's  all  right  as  long  as 
you  don't  muddle  her  with  two  things  at  once  like 
saying,  'put  on  the  squash  and  potatoes  for  dinner.' 
If  there  is  anything  to  get  mixed  she  loses  her  head 
and  mixes  it.  She's  a  good  soul,  though,  and  I'm  fond 
of  her." 

Olive  found  a  place  much  to  her  liking  in  the  linen 
room  of  a  South  Side  hotel,  where  she  received 
thirty  dollars  a  month  in  addition  to  her  room,  board 
and  the  company  of  the  other  domestics.  She  talked 
of  nothing  else  during  the  last  few  days  but  her 
new  job.  She  cried  on  parting  with  Mrs.  Harris  and 
Ward.  She  had  never  before  worked  so  long  in  one 
place,  and  if  they  ever  kept  house  again,  they  had  to 
take  her  back,  she  told  them  in  an  astounding  burst 
of  consecutive  thought. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  181 


Sari  and  Cecil  all  this  time  were  in  New  Orleans. 
But  the  ill-luck  that  pursued  Cecil  caused  his  relative 
to  sell  his  theater,  and  offer  Cecil  his  fare  back  to  Chi- 
cago. And  so  they  came  about  the  middle  of  Jan- 
uary, without  letting  Ward  and  Dizzy  know  of  their 
arrival.  They  were  tired  of  being  continually  hard 
up,  and  wanted  to  get  on  their  feet  before  they  looked 
up  either  his  relatives  or  hers. 

Neither  of  them  could  get  work.  Sari's  dancing  had 
fallen  down  so  that  it  would  take  at  least  six  months 
of  hard  practicing  before  she  could  hope  for  a  job  at 
her  chosen  profession.  Playing  in  the  movies  was  the 
same  old  story.  The  places  he  could  get  paid  too 
little  money  to  make  them  worth  while. 

And  then  Sari  answered  one  of  those  enticing  ads 
which  may  be  found  in  the  "Female  Help  Wanted" 
section  of  almost  any  newspaper  in  the  country,  an 
advertisement  which  tells  about  pleasant  surround- 
ings, easy  work,  short  hours  and  good  pay.  She  be- 
came a  telephone  operator,  and  tried  not  to  go  crazy 
sitting  on  a  stiff  backed  chair  with  a  continual  buzzing 
in  her  ears  from  the  apparatus  attached  to  her  head, 
and  a  continual  hum  of  raucous  voices,  "Number  Plee- 
az!  I  do  not  underst — yand!  Number  Plee-az! 
You're  party  does  not  answer!"  Everlastingly,  sing- 
ingly,  droningly  it  went  on  around  her,  as  she  said 
over  and  over  again  into  the  transmitter  the  set  of 
phrases  with  which  she  was  allowed  to  address  the 
telephone  subscribers. 

This  move  of  Sari  drove  Cecil  to  a  desperate  re- 
solve. If  she  could  do  that  sort  of  thing,  so  could  he. 


182  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

VI 

The  next  morning  he  hurried  out  into  the  street  to 
buy  a  paper.  Without  a  glance  at  the  headlines  he 
turned  to  the  want  ad  columns,  skipped  the  advertise- 
ments listed  under  the  heads  "Salesmen  Wanted" — he 
was  not  to  be  deluded  by  the  huge  commissions  of- 
fered by  the  people  who  inserted  the  ads — and  went 
on  to  "Professions  and  Trades." 

"Production,  that's  the  thing  these  days.  It's  what 
everyone  is  talking  about.  And  the  machinist  is  the 
man  who  is  getting  the  big  money." 

Much  against  his  natural  desires  he  entered  a  shop 
at  llth  and  Washington  streets.  Enquiring  at  the 
door  of  the  shop  as  to  whom  he  should  ask  about  em- 
ployment he  was  directed  to  see  the  foreman  of  the 
machine  shop,  a  smaller  building  around  the  corner. 

He  entered  the  slim,  dark,  shabby-looking  red  brick 
building  timidly.  "Where's  the  foreman?"  he  asked  a 
man  who  was  standing  near  a  desk  as  he  came  in 
the  room. 

"You're  talkin'  to  him  right  now." 

"I'm  looking  for  a  job." 

"What  kind  of  work  can  you  do?" 

"I'm  a  screw  machine  operator." 

"Screw  machine  hand,  huh.  Well  we've  got  a  new 
SB-Foster  here  and  if  you  can  run  it  you  get  the  job." 

"I  know  I  can  run  it,"  Cecil  said. 

"Where  didja  ever  work  before?" 

"Uh  ah,  in  St.  Louis." 

"All  right,  here's  a  card.  Go  up  to  the  Employment 
office  at  the  Lowry  building  and  get  it  filled  out  and 
then  come  back  here  at  six  o'clock  tonight.  We  pay 
seventy-five  cents  an  hour." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  183 

"This  must  be  night  work,"  he  thought  as  he  went 
to  get  his  card  filled  out. 

He  hurried  back  in  order  to  be  with  the  babies  be- 
fore Sari  set  out  for  work. 

"I'm  a  screw  machine  hand  now,  old  thing!" 

"Go  on!" 

"Yes,  I  am.    Look  here!"    He  exhibited  his  card. 

"What  do  you  know  about  handling  screw  ma- 
chines?" 

"Not  a  darn  thing.  But  I'm  going  to  get  by  or  bust. 
I  ought  to  pull  down  fifty  or  so  a  week." 

"No?"  Sari  was  not  so  credulous  about  salaries  as 
she  had  been.  "How  do  you  get  that  way?" 

"Fact.  Now  listen.  I'm  going  to  work  nights,  so  I 
can  take  care  of  the  babies  in  the  daytime  and  do  the 
housework.  Will  you  be  afraid  nights  alone?" 

"Oh  Cecil,  Cecil,  when  are  things  going  to  start  to 
get  better?" 


VII 


Cecil  was  at  the  shop  a  few  minutes  before  six. 
Long  rows  of  black  dirty  looking  machines  lined  the 
building.  Men  were  taking  off  their  street  clothes  and 
replacing  them  with  overalls,  aprons,  sateen  caps.  A 
young  man,  his  head  bare,  his  throat  open  at  the  neck 
and  every  apparent  particle  of  his  skin  covered  with 
black,  came  up  to  Cecil. 

He  reached  for  Cecil's  card.  "Oh,  yeh,  you're  the 
new  man  that  Gus  said  was  goin'  to  run  the  SB-Fos- 
ter. All  right  come  on,  I'll  show  it  to  you!" 

If  he  had  been  a  dog  Cecil's  tail  would  have  been 
between  his  legs  as  he  followed  the  young  man  down 
an  endless  line  of  huge  black-looking  monsters  where 


184  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

men  were  already  switching  on  lights  and  throwing 
their  machines  into  gear. 

Beside  the  largest  and  most  ominous-looking  ma- 
chine of  all  they  came  to  a  stop. 

"Here  she  is,"  said  the  man. 

"I  never" — he  stopped;  he  had  been  going  to  say 
he  had  never  seen  a  machine  like  that  before.  " — ran 
a  machine  just  like  this  one  before." 

"What  the  Hell  kind  did  you  ever  run,"  the  young 
man  wanted  to  know. 

"Well,  a  different  kind." 

"You  guys  make  me  sick.  Coming  in  here  and 
wanting  to  be  a  machinist  when  you  ain't  even  got  a 
right  to  be  an  apprentice.  Here  I'll  show  you  how  it 
goes!" 

With  astonishing  ease  the  young  man  connected  the 
machine  to  the  motor. 

"The  job's  all  set  up.  There's  a  big  contract  for 
gears  that  we  got  and  we're  working  the  machine  day 
and  night.  Here,  I'll  run  off  a  few  for  you!" 

The  machine  started  to  hum.  A  pipe  running  from 
the  bed  of  the  machine  began  to  pour  forth  a  steady 
stream  of  a  whitish  fluid.  "This  is  the  water,"  said 
the  man.  "It  keeps  the  tools  from  burning  up.  Here's 
the  cross  feed.  Start  this  tool  in  to  shape  your  gear. 
Keep  your  mike  on  it  all  .  .  ."  He  explained  in  detail 
as  he  went  along  how  the  machine  was  manipulated. 
After  several  shiny-looking  gears  were  cut  off  he  turned 
to  Cecil  and  told  him  to  try  it.  "I've  got  to  go  'way 
now." 

By  midnight,  after  numerous  visits  from  the  fore- 
man and  after  a  huge  quantity  of  steel  had  been  wasted 
Cecil  managed  to  produce  one  piece  that  measured  up 
to  all  the  requirements.  The  foreman  came  back. 
Cecil  proudly  showed  him  the  fruit  of  his  labor. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  185 

"Well,  it's  half  past  twelve  now  so  we're  goin'  out  to 
eat,'"  said  the  foreman.  "We'll  have  to  do  something 
with  all  this  stuff  you've  scrapped  or  the  day  boss  will 
fire  you  in  the  morning." 

VIII 

Night  after  night  Cecil  sat  before  the  giant  machine. 
A  milky  fluid  ran  smoothly  from  a  pipe  on  the  ma- 
chine directly  above  the  piece  of  steel  that  was  being 
shaped.  It  cooled  the  metal  as  the  forming  tool  pared 
off  thin  layers  of  steel  that  coiled  and  writhed  upward 
with  a  hissing  sound.  The  turret  bore  down  heavily, 
clumsily,  and  Cecil  steered  the  drill  into  the  center  of 
the  piece  of  steel.  It  entered  with  a  grinding  noise. 

The  man  at  the  machine  next  him  was  bent.  His 
arms,  bare  to  the  shoulders,  were  covered  with  a  thick 
varnish  of  black  grease.  Under  it  his  muscles  were 
modeled  in  pitch.  From  time  to  time  he  wiped  white 
drops  of  water  from  his  forehead  with  a  hurried  ges- 
ture, as  he  chanted: 

"Every  wheel  is  turnin' 

Hotalmighty 

Every  knocker's  knockin' 

Hotalmighty 

Every  tool  is  cuttin' 

Hotalmighty." 

He  was  being  paid  eight  cents  for  each,  of  the  pieces 
of  finished  steel  that  passed  the  material  inspector. 

His  machine  broke  down  with  a  sullen  noise. 

The  man  exhausted  himself  in  cursing  and  then  sat 
down  on  a  box  near  the  machine.  He  got  to  his  feet 
stiffly  and  shambled  over  to  Cecil. 


186  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"God  damn.  It'll  take  these  boneheads  an  hour  to 
fix  up  that  baby  and  that  means  two  cold  bucks  out  of 
my  pocket.  Oh  well  .  .  ." 

For  eleven  hours  and  a  half  for  six  nights  a  week 
Cecil  toiled.  In  compensation  he  received  a  little  less 
than  fifty  dollars  a  week. 


BOOK  THREE 
DIZZY 


CHAPTER  I 


DIZZY,  now  thoroughly  established  as  a  newspaper 
woman  in  the  Times  office,  pursued  her  days  with 
gusto.  Each  day,  between  ten  and  noon,  she  sat  be- 
fore a  typewriter,  racking,  transporting,  corroding, 
ravishing  her  soul,  trying  to  imbue  her  work  with  the 
mordant  flush  she  desired. 

The  apartment  in  which  she  lived  with  Ward  was 
in  the  Astor  hotel  on  the  edge  of  the  park.  Two 
rooms,  complexioned  a  dun  monochrome,  looked  out 
on  a  hueless  stone  paved  alley. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  she  came  from  a  meeting  of 
Socialists  held  in  the  Coliseum.  Ward,  reading  in  the 
windowless,  decolorized  sitting  room,  looked  up  to  ask 
smilingly  how  the  meeting  had  been. 

Dizzy  laughed.  "Horrible.  Why  are  people  so 
stupid?  I  remember  when  I  used  to  say  that  I  could 
convince  any  workingman  of  the  value  of  industrial 
unionism — now,  I'm  beginning  to  think  that  they 
won't  realize  it  until  it's  knocked  into  them  with  can- 
nons— even  then  I  wonder  if  they'll  really  see.  When 
they  begin  to  get  faint  glimmerings  of  socialism  the 
common  people  are  more  horrible  than  ever — 

"I  thought  this  afternoon  of  the  time  I  went  to  a 
socialist  lecture  with  father.  You  remember  how  I 
stood  up  and  shouted  at  the  audience:  'You  dogs  and 
fools,  that's  not  the  place  to  applaud.'  They  ap- 
plauded everything  that  they  shouldn't  have,  this  aft- 
ernoon. The  speaker  said,  'The  capitalists  will  find  a 

189 


190  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

way  to  get  you.  They  got  Victor  Berger  out  of  the 
House.  They  got  Eugene  V.  Debs  in  prison,  and  next 
year  they  will  find  a  way  to  have  all  the  Socialist 
votes  stricken  out  at  the  polls.'  Cheers  and  wild  ap- 
plause. I  felt  like  prancing  like  a  satyr!" 

Ward  smiled.  She  seldom  entered  into  a  discussion 
with  Dizzy.  As  a  result  their  intercourse  was  very 
harmonious. 

"I  can  never  love  any  man  as  much  as  I  do  you," 
said  Dizzy  after  they  had  finished  eating,  and  were 
lounging  in  their  little  sitting  room.  "You  are  like 
Jennie  Gerhart.  You  are  emotionally  great.  I'm 
going  to  make  something  out  of  you,  yet.  With  my 
brains  and  your  beauty,  we  ought  to  make  a  fortune. 
Perhaps  I'll  put  you  on  the  stage." 

Ward  smiled  calmly.  Her  poise  was  never  disturbed 
by  Dizzy's  spells  of  being  moved.  She  made  a  good 
listener  and  her  sympathetic  manner,  and  her  beauty, 
which  had  struck  Dizzy  anew,  made  her  the  subject  of 
frequent  outbursts  like  this  from  her  young  sister. 

"What  is  the  Custard  Pie  club,  Dizzy?"  asked 
Ward.  "I  hear  so  much  about  it?  A  sort  of  tough 
dance  hall?" 

"Good  gracious,  no!"  said  Dizzy.  "It's  a  hotbed  of 
radicals  and  parlor  bolshevists.  I've  been  intending 
to  go  and  visit  it  some  night.  They  have  meetings 
every  Sunday  evening.  If  you  have  nothing  on,  we 
might  go  tonight.  I'm  curious  to  see  it.  I  might  get 
a  little  story.  I  don't  suppose  I  can  consider  myself 
a  full-fledged  reporter  until  I've  kidded  the  Custard 
Pies  through  the  public  prints." 

"I'd  rather  like  to  go,"  said  Ward.  "Do  let's  go  to- 
night? Shall  we  have  to  take  a  couple  of  men?  Do 
they  dance?" 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  191 

"No,  I  think  it's  all  pure  discussion.  Nothing  as 
frivolous  as  dancing." 

"But  do  they  serve  liquor  on  the  sly?  What  makes 
it  so  bad?  Why  does  everybody  shake  his  head  over 
it?" 

"Well,  people  shake  their  heads  over  anything.  It's 
a  lot  more  respectable  than  some  of  those  road-houses 
and  exclusive  dubs  if  the  truth  were  really  known,  I 
haven't  any  doubt.  These  people  are  just  harmless 
little  I.  W.  W.'s  whose  free  discussion  of  everything 
pertaining  to  art,  politics  and  religion  has  caused  a  lot 
of  conventional  old  idiots  to  hold  up  their  hands  in 
holy  horror." 

The  telephone  rang.  It  was  one  of  Ward's  beaux. 
She  had  half  a  dozen  who  were  forever  annoying  Dizzy 
by  distracting  her  sister's  attention.  This  young  man, 
being  unimportant,  was  dismissed  by  Ward  in  favor  of 
Dizzy's  invitation. 

"It's  wonderful  being  a  reporter  lydy,"  said  Dizzy, 
when  Ward  was  once  more  back  in  her  place.  "I'm 
really  happy  now  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  I've 
got  real  work  and  you.  I  feel  somehow  like  a  suc- 
cessful man  must  feel — having  a  beautiful  wife  to  come 
home  to,  to  soothe  his  aesthetic  sense  and  listen  to  his 
ideas  intelligently. 

"In  the  horrid,  hectic,  fear-ridden  atmosphere  of 
this  city  that  there  should  be  or  could  be  sensation  in 
the  touching  of  a  lovely  flower  is  grotesque,  ridiculous. 
Every  night,  I  hear  the  city  outside  my  window,  and 
it  is  tumultuous,  overwhelming  for  a  second,  until  I 
think  of  you,  lying  there  calm,  beautiful.  It's  almost 
unbelievable."  She  mused  on  for  some  moments, 
forming  word  combinations  in  her  mind  that  pleased 
her,  and  then  her  thoughts  drifted  to  the  office. 

"There's  a  lydy  in  our  office  that's  a  worse  vamp 


192  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

than  you  are,  dear."  '  Dizzy1  had  taken  to  ornamenting 
her  talk  with  tid-bits  of  jargon  which  she  had  picked 
up  among  the  garish  intellectuals  who  wrote  for  the 
Times.  Jim  Stein,  with  a  tingent  genius  for  coloring 
the  most  sallow  stories,  bedizened  his  conversation 
with  what  he  called  "a  million  different  shades,  a  mil- 
lion different  grotesques."  And  from  him  and  other 
reporters,  Dizzy  had  absorbed  a  pallid  slang. 

"Really?"  asked  Ward  encouragingly.  "How  does 
she  excel  me?" 

"She  excels  you  in  weight,  for  one  thing.  If  she 
weren't  the  only  other  lydy  reporter  on  the  staff,  and 
if  people  might  not  think  that  I  was  jealous  of  her  I'd 
even  say  that  she  was  fat.  And  she's  got  it  all  over 
you  in  sentiment,  too.  She's  the  most  sentimental 
person  that  I  have  ever  been  unfortunate  enough  to 
meet. 

"Everything  is  simply  wonder-r-r-ful,  with  a  rising 
crescendo  as  far  as  the  wonder,  and  then  a  fall  on  the 
r.  Every  day  is  an  anniversary  with  her.  I  met  her 
in  the  wash  room  yesterday,  and  without  a  moment's 
warning  she  said,  'It  was  just  a  year  ago  today  that 
the  most  wonder-r-r-ful  man  in  the  wor-r-rld  took  me 
in  his  arms  and  told  me  that  he  loved  me.'  The  man 
is  dead,  and  so  my  sense  of  decency  made  me  look 
sympathetic.  But  I  was  outraged.  I  tell  you  I  was 
outraged." 

She  laughed.    Ward  smiled  at  the  imitation. 

"Mr.  Burns — you  know,  Peter  Oscar  Burns,  the  lit- 
erary critic  is  in  love  with  her.  And  so  is  little  Georgie 
Cotton,  and  a  dignified  guy  that  does  something  to  the 
editorial  pages,  too.  All  of  them  married,  except 
Georgie.  Jim  Stein  told  me  that  the  three  of  them  sit 
and  discuss  her  by  the  hour. 

"Petie  Burns  is  getting  in  with  the  New  York  crit- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  193 

ics.  He  goes  down  to  New  York  twice  a  year  and 
they  wine  him  and  dine  him,  and  he  feels  that  he's  got 
to  keep  up  his  end  as  a  lit'ry  bird.  And  so  he'd  like 
to  have  Pearl  for  his  mistress.  I  mean,  you  know, 
they  all  have  a  lot  of  women — those  lit'ry  guys  in  New 
York,  and  Petie's  only  got  a  wife.  Imagine  the  fool 
that  he'll  look  in  New  York  with  nothing  but  a  wife,  if 
he  goes  down  there  to  live.  Jim  Stein  says  he  brought 
Pearl  up  from  the  business  office.  He's  educating  her, 
planning  to  seduce  her.  And  she's  getting  all  sorts  of 
lit'ry  ideas.  She  reads  all  the  new  books  and  talks 
about  style — " 

"Why  Dizzy,  how  terrible  I     Is  she  beautiful?" 

"Not  particularly.  She's  fat.  She's  just  like  any 
fat  girl  who  takes  herself  seriously.  She  oozes  dig- 
nity and  poise  and  self-possession.  Jim  Stein  is  the 
only  one  of  the  four — they  are  inseparable,  you  know — 
who  hasn't  fallen  for  her.  He  says  she  talks  sex  to  all 
the  men,  but  keeps  them  at  a  distance.  And  sentimen- 
tal! She  must  be  about  twenty-six  but  she  gushes  as 
if  she  were  ten  years  younger,  slowly,  with  perfect 
enunciation,  and  ponderous  assurance.  She  prefaces 
every  one  of  her  remarks  with  'I  feel  that — '  Each 
conversation  is  a  dissertation  on  her  re-actions.  Six 
months  ago  she  lost  a  sweetheart.  She  relates  her 
emotional  experiences  with  this  man  to  me.  I'm  out- 
raged. I'm  insulted.  But  what  can  I  do?" 

Ward  still  smiled.  She  had  never  confided  any  of 
her  emotional  experiences  to  Dizzy  and  a  faint  feeling 
of  pity  for  the  unfortunate  Pearl  who  had  confided  in 
Dizzy  came  into  her  consciousness. 

"She  insults  me  with  anecdotes  like  this,"  went  on 
Dizzy.  "She  says,  'Once  the  most  wonder-r-rful  man 
in  the  world  was  away  from  me.  And  suddenly  I  had 
a  feeling  that  perhaps  he  might  like  to  read  over  his 


194  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

letters  to  me,  and  so  I  sent  them  to  him  through  the 
mails.  And  at  the  same  time  he  had  the  same  feeling 
about  me.  And  he  sent  me  my  letters.  And  the  pack- 
ages crossed  in  the  mails.  Isn't  it  wonderful?'  " 

II 

The  telephone  rang.    Ward  answered. 

"Hello — Yes — Oh  how  do  you  do  Mr.  Glosser — " 
It  was  the  man  of  whom  Dizzy  least  approved.  Di- 
vorced from  his  wife,  approaching  forty,  partially  bald, 
she  might  have  felt  a  generous  toleration  for  him.  But 
he  was  a  capitalist.  It  was  too  much  to  overlook. 

"My  sister? — She  doesn't  go  out  very  often.  She 
works,  you  know  and  she  doesn't  feel  that  she  can 
take  time  off  in  the  evening.  No,  but  she  needs  rest 
you  see? — I'll  ask  her,  but  I  can't  give  you  much  en- 
couragement. Well,  perhaps  if  you  call  up  next  Sun- 
day." Ward  turned  from  the  phone. 

"Mortimer  Glosser  says  a  young  man  wants  to 
meet  you,  Dizzy.  He's  seen  you,  or  heard  about  you, 
or  something,  I  didn't  quite  get  it.  Anyway  the  young 
man's  impressed  with  you,  it  seems,  and  Mr.  Glosser 
has  asked  us  both  to  have  dinner  with  him  when  he 
gets  back  from  New  York  and  meet  this  young  man. 
He's  leaving  tonight  for  New  York.  So  I  told  him  to 
call  up  when  he  gets  back  Sunday  and  I'd  try  to  per- 
suade you  to  go." 

"You  will  be  entirely  unsuccessful,"  said  Dizzy 
promptly.  "Hurry  up,  it  is  getting  late  and  we  don't 
want  to  miss  anything  down  at  the  Custard  Pie  Club." 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  Custard  Pie  Club  may  be  discovered  up  Ben- 
son's Lane.  A  row  of  painted  custard  pies,  wan  and 
sallow,  mark  the  faint  green  door,  dimmed  with  alley 
dust  and  lettered  "The  Custard  Pie  Club." 

Inside  is  a  big  comfortable  room  with  an  arrange- 
ment at  one  end  that  is  half  bar,  half  kitchen.  Color 
daubed  benches,  tables  and  chairs,  are  scattered  about. 
The  room  is  cheerfully  done  in  pale  blues,  greens  and 
yellows  in  the  scheme  of  a  futuristic  bathroom.  An 
inferior  sort  of  piano,  a  long  mirror  and  several  small 
electric  stoves  are  the  only  other  furnishings  except  a 
profusion  of  drawings,  newspaper  clippings,  signed 
poems  and  posters  that  decorate  the  walls.  Prominent 
among  these  are  several  large  caricatures,  paintings  and 
silhouettes  of  the  genius  of  the  place,  one  Texas  Flynn, 
Emperor  of  the  parlour  Radicals.  An  exploiter  of  the 
abnormal,  this  genial  host  takes  in  the  quarters  at  the 
door  with  much  humorous  cursing,  and  ungrammati- 
cally pits  groping  poet  against  struggling  artist  in  the 
weekly  discussions  on  Sunday  evening. 

According  to  a  legend  by  Sherwood  Anderson,  Texas 
Flynn  arrived  out  of  nowhere — a  housepainter  with 
sympathies  for  the  overworked.  He  took  up  his  quar- 
ters in  the  old  garage  that  afterward  became  the  Cus- 
tard Pie,  and  made  a  home  for  the  sad-eyed  hobo 
whose  only  dwelling  was  a  park  around  the  corner 
with  the  squirrels.  Soap  box  orators  were  given  a  pul- 
pit in  the  retreat  of  Texas  Flynn. 

195 


196  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

But  it  was  not  until  Carl  Sandburg,  Ben  Hecht  and 
Anderson  began  to  write  it  up  in  the  papers,  that  it  be- 
came known.  Cub  reporters  began  to  make  its  semi- 
weekly  meetings.  Tex  Flynn  never  discouraged  them. 
He  cracked  his  whip  and  exhibited  his  eager  young 
souls  unmercifully  for  the  sarcastic  and  commercial- 
minded  young  newspaper  men,  who  dripped  facile  sar- 
casms about  the  Custard  Pies  through  the  press. 

People  like  Mrs.  Partridge  read  and  shuddered. 
But  from  Evanston  to  South  Chicago,  from  the  Loop 
to  Oak  Park  the  onlookers  come  in  clans,  in  tribes,  in 
bevies.  A  professor  of  literature  at  the  University  of 
Chicago  can  be  discovered  on  a  Sunday  night,  sitting 
with  his  knees  under  his  chin  in  the  first  row;  and  as 
the  seats  graduate  upward,  perhaps  the  feet  of  an  ex- 
convict  may  be  found  dangling  between  those  of  a 
plumber  and  a  member  of  the  board  of  trade. 


II 


Ward  and  Dizzy  opened  the  door  which  resembled 
a  crumpled  lettuce  leaf.  The  room  was  deserted  save 
for  three  people  who  lounged  around  a  man  taking 
tickets  at  the  entrance  to  the  hall  upstairs.  They 
made  their  way  curiously  across  the  wide  room,  their 
attention  caught  here  and  there  by  the  signs  on  the 
walls,  and  some  of  the  larger  drawings. 

Up  a  narrow  dark  enclosed  staircase  they  came  out 
at  last  into  a  pleasant  mosaic  of  fashionables  and  tat- 
terdemalions. On  the  platform  a  pale  girl  was  reading 
a  poem.  Her  blonde  hair  curled  in  disorder  about  her 
face.  A  loose  smoke  colored  gown,  merging  into  pur- 
ple, circumfused  her  like  a  violet  pool. 

When  she  paused  and  began  a  new  poem,  which  she 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  197, 

said  was  called  "Ugliness,"  Dizzy  and  Ward  focused 
their  attentions  on  her. 

"Huddled  in  the  bed  in  the  moments  after  I  wake 

Swaddled   about   with   musty   covers,   meant   to   keep   the   damp 

dawn  out. 

My  sins  come  and  clamp  themselves  upon  my  body 
Biting  into  my  flesh  like  thumb  tacks  stuck  in  fantastic  design 
Upon  a  drawing  board. 

Lust  starts  at  my  toes  and  travels  upward — 
My  sweetheart  is  a  conventional  young  man. 
He  hates  to  read  a  thing  like  this. 
He  thinks  of  my  body  as  a  symmetrical  sugar  bowl 
Filled  with  an  emotion  like  soothing  syrup — 
Bitterness  beats  in  my  arteries  because  my  life  has  been  a  round 

of  trifles, 

Or  because  my  lover  did  not  telephone  last  night  as  he  promised. 
Hate  grips  me  for  the  pattern  of  the  paper  on  the  wall 
Or  for  a  possible  woman  who  may  take  my  lover  from  me." 

Dissipated  approval  melted  into  a  confluence  of  ap- 
plause. 

A  man  with  hair  like  broom  straws  arose  and  ha- 
rangued in  broken  English,  unintelligible  to  Dizzy  and 
Ward.  A  slender,  blue  eyed  youth  with  his  hair  poeti- 
cally drooping  over  his  eyes  answered  him.  And  it 
appeared  that  the  subject  under  discussion  had  veered 
to  the  question:  Was  it  really  necessary  to  have  men 
in  the  human  race?  The  blue  eyed  youth  argued  that 
since  woman  did  all  the  work  of  the  world  and  all 
great  men  had  cribbed  their  greatness  from  a  wife, 
sweetheart  or  mother,  all  men  should  be  exterminated 
in  babyhood,  with  the  exception  of  a  choice  number 
who  should  be  kept  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  the 
race. 

"All  I  gotta  say  is  that  men  was  pretty  smart  to 
fool  the  women  all  these  years  if  that's  the  case,"  a 
voice  from  the  audience  shouted.  The  youth  paid  no 
attention  but  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  supernal  blue  and 
green  ceiling.  When  he  finished  his  talk,  the  man 
with  the  broom  straw  hair  delivered  himself  of  argu- 


198  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

ments,  inspired  by  the  blue  eyed  boy.  This  time  Dizzy 
and  Ward  were  able  to  make  out  a  complete  sentence 
occasionally. 

"Look  ad  de  spinster,"  he  shouted.  "De  spinster 
knows  how  to  do  widout  men — Afder  de  eggs  is 
hadched  de  female  spinster  kills  de  male  spinster — " 

Laughs  interrupted  him  as  it  spirtled  to  the  audience 
that  he  meant  spider.  Individuals  squirmed  in  their 
seats — a  few  rose  and  left.  Others  moved  forward. 
Another  girl  had  risen  to  speak.  Dizzy  and  Ward 
looking  toward  the  platform,  gasped  and  clutched  each 
other.  The  girl  was  Sari. 

Sari  was  coming  to  the  defense  of  man,  saving  him, 
as  it  were,  from  extinction.  Neither  Ward  nor  Dizzy 
heard  her  arguments.  They  were  absorbed  in  wonder- 
ing, anxious  for  her  to  finish,  eager  to  see  her,  Ward 
a  little  ashamed  of  her  conspicuousness,  Dizzy  amused. 


Ill 


They  made  their  way  to  the  front  as  soon  as  the 
meeting  was  over.  Sari,  flushed,  laughing,  in  the  cen- 
ter of  a  group,  suddenly  saw  them. 

"Ward,  oh  Ward,  I'm  glad  to  see  you."  She  em- 
phasized her  speech  with  her  old  vividness.  "Oh 
Dizzy."  She  kissed  them  enthusiastically. 

"Sari,  what  on  earth?  What  are  you  doing  here? 
Where  is  Cecil?"  Ward  demanded  incoherently. 
"We've  missed  you  horribly!  Mother  will  be  so  glad 
I've  seen  you.  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  here?" 

"Darling,  I  live  here,"  said  Sari.  "Cecil  and  I  have 
two  of  the  cunningest  rooms  back  of  the  chapel  here. 
Tex  Flynn  is  a  darb.  He  let  us  have  them  awfully 
reasonably.  Come  on  back  and  see  the  little  patooties. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  199 

Cecil  is  taking  care  of  them.  Oh  there  he  is  now!" 
She  turned. 

In  the  doorway  of  the  now  almost  deserted  chapel, 
Cecil,  looking  a  little  tired  and  pale,  leaned.  He 
smiled  with  his  old  adoring  look  at  Sari,  and  waved 
his  hand  without  surprise  at  the  girls.  Cecil  professed 
to  have  a  great  admiration  for  the  Chinese  impassi- 
bility and  strove  always  to  emulate  it. 

Sari  bounded  eagerly  across  the  room,  throwing  a 
word  to  the  blue-eyed  youth  who  had  talked  so  elo- 
quently. "Wait,  Raleigh,  I'll  be  back.  I  want  you  to 
meet  my  sisters." 

She  led  Ward  and  Dizzy  through  a  little  dark  hall- 
way and  into  her  apartments,  which  had  been  deco- 
rated in  the  same  color  scheme  as  the  Custard  Pie  and 
which  had  much  the  same  sort  of  artist's  debris  on 
the  walls.  In  a  corner  two  small  beds  were  each  in- 
habited by  a  little  De  Jonghe.  The  fascinating  Tyn- 
dall  slept  with  a  chubby  fist  in  his  cheek.  His  father 
exhibited  baby  Cecil,  pulling  back  a  bit  of  cover  with 
a  touch  as  light  as  a  fly's  wing,  while  Sari  hung  over 
him,  holding  her  breath. 

Cecil,  olive-skinned  and  black  browed,  slept  with 
his  long  lashes  throwing  off  a  sheen  against  the  color 
in  his  cheeks. 

"Sari!  He's  a  real  beauty  isn't  he?  He's  almost 
as  big  as  Tyndall." 

"Yes,"  whispered  Sari.  "Tin-tin  isn't  very  well, 
I'm  afraid.  Oh  he's  all  right,  but  he's  not  husky  like 
Junior.  Junior  is  going  to  be  big.  Tin-tin's  a  bit  un- 
dersized." 

"Oh  I've  missed  little  Tyndall,"  said  Ward.  "I 
didn't  realize  how  much  until  now.  Isn't  he  darling? 
May  I  come  and  see  him  tomorrow?" 

"Well,  I'm  working  down  at  the  telephone  exchange. 


200  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Cecil  will  be  here.  He's  out  of  a  job  just  now.  But 
he's  going  to  get  something.  The  doctor  won't  let  him 
work,  just  yet.  His  health  broke  down  in  that  horrid 
machine  shop." 

"Machine  shop?" 

"Yes.  He  found  he  could  get  fifty  dollars  a  week  by 
working  in  a  shop,  and  he  had  to  work  twelve  hours  a 
day,  but  he  couldn't  stand  it,  poor  boy.  Don't  say 
anything.  He  feels  awful  because  he's  not  working, 
poor  old  chap.  He's  been  splendid.  And  I'm  a  pig 
to  him.  But  come  on,  I  simply  can't  stand  it  here. 
We're  all  going  out  on  a  party,  and  I  promised  Raleigh 
Minster  that  I'd  bring  you,  Ward.  You  will  come?" 

"But  what  about  the  babies,"  said  Ward.  "You 
don't  leave  them  alone,  do  you?" 

"Oh  Cecil  will  stay  with  them.  Come  on.  I  know 
it's  horrible  of  me  to  leave  him,  but  I  simply  can't 
stand  it  to  stay.  And  he's  so  perfectly  dear  about  it." 

She  rushed  over  and  kissed  Cecil,  who  had  been 
talking  to  Dizzy  in  a  low  tone. 

"Don't  you  want  to  come  out  and  meet  some  of  the 
Custard  Pies?"  whispered  Sari  to  Dizzy.  "Ward  is 
coming." 

Dizzy  agreed  enthusiastically.  She  had  been  wish- 
ing for  an  opportunity  to  see  some  of  them  closer. 

IV 

In  the  basement  at  North  side  Turner  Hall,  the 
choice  spirits  of  the  club  gathered  around  Ward  and 
Dizzy. 

Ward  sat  between  the  notorious  Fat  Richmond  and 
Raleigh  Minster.  Fat  Richmond  had  been  in  jail  for 
violations  of  the  vagrancy  law,  and  the  Mann  act.  He 
was  a  noted  leader  of  the  I.  W.  W.  The  government 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  201 

had  been  on  the  point  of  deporting  him  to  Russia  for 
some  time.  He  was  middle-aged,  Jewish,  enormous, 
with  amorous  dark  eyes  and  a  clear  dark  skin.  His 
black  silky  hair  abundantly  and  gracefully  outlined 
his  head.  He  wore  soft  collars,  and  lounged  in  his 
seat,  letting  his  bulk  ooze  out  over  the  chair  like 
bread  rising  over  a  pan. 

On  his  other  side  sat  his  wife,  small,  slender,  pre- 
maturely aged,  wearing  a  picture  hat  and  the  simple 
school-girlish  dress  which  she  affected.  She  adored 
him.  Her  presence  never  debarred  him  from  any 
phase  of  love-making.  She  was  the  trusted  member 
of  his  harem. 

At  one  corner  sat  a  youth  with  a  delicate  pink  skin, 
who  played  daintily  with  his  food,  and  looked  about 
with  a  pensive  gaze.  Ward  thought  that  he  looked  as 
if  his  hair  had  been  treated  to  a  henna  rinse.  His 
eyebrows  were  partially  pulled  out,  and  pencilled;  his 
greenish  brilliant  eyes  had  a  piercing  mystery. 

"Who  is  that?"  asked  Ward  of  Raleigh  Minster. 

"That's  Dorian  Gray,"  said  Raleigh  with  a  look 
meant  to  convey  something  to  her,  she  felt  sure.  But 
as  she  had  never  read  Dorian  Gray,  and  had  forgotten 
that  there  was  such  a  book,  she  supposed  that  it  was 
the  young  man's  name.  On  her  left  Fat  Richmond 
had  placed  his  arms  on  the  back  of  her  chair  and  was 
letting  his  words  trickle  out  like  a  brook  hissing 
through  stones. 

"What  is  it  about  you  that  makes  all  men  fall  in 
love  with  you?" 

Ward  edging  away  from  a  possible  physical  contact 
murmured  a  nonsensical  answer.  On  her  other  side 
Raleigh  Minster  was  plying  her  with  attention.  She 
turned  to  the  slender  young  man  to  escape  Richmond's 
liquid  eye. 


202  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Janet  Millwright,  the  girl  who  had  recited  the  poem, 
was  sitting  on  the  other  side  of  Raleigh  at  the  end  of 
the  table. 

He  rose  and  delivered  a  speech  about  Ward's  trans- 
cendent beauty,  a  girl  in  pink,  a  former  sweetheart, 
looking  rather  glum  as  it  progressed.  He  ended  by 
proposing  that  they  all  show  her  how  much  they  ap- 
preciated her  by  writing  their  opinion  of  her  on  paper 
and  giving  it  to  her.  "She  is  a  golden  child,  a  beauti- 
ful, who  has  come  among  us!  Let's  show  her  that  we 
want  her  in  our  bunch." 

The  girl  in  the  pink  tarn  and  smock  whispered  to 
Janet  that  Sari's  sister  would  surely  get  her  head 
turned  by  all  this  adulation  from  the  great  Raleigh 
Minster. 

A  sheet  of  paper  was  passed  around.  Ward,  un- 
embarrassed, was  bored  by  what  she  considered  a  vul- 
gar performance.  She  smiled  a  conventional  smile  of 
thanks  at  everyone,  causing  the  girl  in  the  pink  tarn 
to  whisper  that  her  smile  was  a  little  fixed.  No  doubt 
there  was  some  beauty  in  Ward  but  it  was  cold,  un- 
emotional. 

The  paper,  when  it  had  gone  round  the  circle, 
showed  no  great  literary  merit,  in  spite  of  the  inspira- 
tion which  Raleigh  had  said  they  would  surely  all 
feel  after  looking  at  Ward.  The  girls  reluctantly 
wrote  stupid  things,  the  men  extravagant  things. 
Raleigh  wrote  that  he  wondered  from  what  exquisite 
cameo  her  profile  could  have  been  carved.  And  Fat 
Richmond  simply  put  himself  on  record,  "I  feel  my- 
self slipping!" 

Dizzy  enjoyed  it.  She  was  ponderous  and  solemn 
about  the  work  the  Custard  Pies  were  doing  for  art 
and  the  country.  On  one  side  of  her  was  a  well  known 
socialist  lawyer,  who  was  new  to  the  club.  Dizzy  liked 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  203 

him,  too.  Even  Fat  Richmond  was  not  objectionable 
in  her  eyes,  since  she  knew  him  to  be  a  well-known 
radical. 

Janet  had  left  St.  Louis  because  she  was  unhappy 
over  Cecil's  cousin  Roger.  She  was  studying  costume 
designing  and  living  at  "The  Seven  Arts  Club."  She 
went  about  a  good  deal  with  Raleigh  Minster. 


CHAPTER  III 
I 

THERE  was  one  mail  delivery  on  Sunday  at  the 
hotel* 

A  week  later  Dizzy  bounced  into  the  apartment 
waving  a  letter  in  her  hand — 

"Hopkins!"  she  gasped  holding  out  the  letter.  "Oh 
Ward,  darling!"  She  flung  her  arms  around  Ward, 
and  laughed  hysterically  into  her  sister's  neck. 
"Look!  Look!  Look!  Hopkins  accepts  a  story  and 
sends  me  a  personal  note!  See  his  signature!  The 
great  Hopkins!  And  look,  he  thinks  I  write  like  a 
man.  He  thinks  I  am  a  man!  He  begins  My  dear 
Harris!  You  know  he  is  the  only  editor  in  the  United 
States  I'd  care  to  write  for — " 

"Oh  Dizzy  dear,  wouldn't  you  really  rather  be  on 
the  Saturday  Evening  Post?" 

"Oh  Ward,  how  can  you?"  said  Dizzy.  "And  just 
when  I'm  so  happy.  See,  he  sent  me  a  check  for 
twenty-five  dollars!" 

"Oh!" 

"Well?" 

"I  thought  you'd  get  more!" 

"Oh  my  dear,  I  don't  want  more.  I'm  so  glad  jiust 
to  be  accepted.  Just  think.  'The  Shadow  Scroll,' 
by  E.  W.  Harris.  Oh,  we  must  have  a  party! " 

The  telephone  rang  as  if  in  answer.  "Oh  Ward,  if 
that  is  some  tiresome  man,  tell  him  you're  engaged  for 
the  day  with  me." 

"But  Dizzy,  I  promised  the  day  to  Mr.  Glosser," 

204 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  205 

said  Ward  on  her  way  to  the  phone.  Dizzy's  elation 
fell  from  her  suddenly  as  Ward  took  up  the  receiver. 
What  was  the  good  of  her  triumph  with  no  one  to 
celebrate  with  her?  Ward  wasn't  really  glad.  She 
was  just  hatefully,  coolly,  tactfully  giving  Dizzy  the 
professional  interest  of  a  spreader  of  sunshine. 

"Oh  Dizzy,"  said  Ward  from  the  phone.  "That 
young  man  that  admired  you  so  is  to  be  with  Mr. 
Glosser.  Won't  you  come  along?  They  want  you, 
not  me.  They  want  to  have  a  party  for  you,  a  long 
drive  and  then  dinner  in  the  country  some  place,  will 
you?" 

"A  party,"  said  Dizzy,  humorously  recovering  some 
of  her  spirits.  "It's  sent  by  the  gods  so  I  don't  dare 
refuse.  I  suppose  I'll  be  sorry  but  I  feel  just  like 
going  out  and  being  foolish,  so  I  guess  I  will." 

And  then  she  remembered  that  she  had  a  new  tub 
silk  sport  dress,  white  with  a  small  lavender  figure  in 
it.  As  she  slipped  into  it  she  felt  very  adventurous 
and  frivolous.  Today  she  meant  to  be  triumphantly  a 
girl  on  a  party  in  order  to  secretly  contrast  it  with  the 
other  personality  which  she  was  hugging:  E.  W.  Har- 
ris, author. 

"It's  a  date,  isn't  it?"  she  said  to  Ward,  looking  at 
her  new  dress,  her  happy  face  in  the  mirror.  "I  don't 
remember  ever  having  one  before.  I  suppose  I  have 
but—" 

"I  wish  I  could  persuade  you  to  go  out  more.  Per- 
haps you'll  like  this  young  Jim  Howells." 

"I  shall — let  me  see,  I  shall  vamp  him.  I've  always 
meant  to  vamp  somebody  when  I  had  the  time,  and 
today  I'm  just  in  the  mood.  Give  me  some  pointers, 
will  you?" 

"You  silly  Dizzy." 

"Of  course  you're  too  wise  to  give  any  away,  aren't 


206  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

you?  Never  mind,  I'm  going  to  watch  you,  and  every- 
thing you  say  to  this  Mortimer  Glosser  guy,  I  shall 
imitate." 


II 


"It's  a  wonderful  day  isn't  it?"  asked  Jim. 

"I  beg  of  you  don't  be  banal,"  said  Dizzy.  "This 
is  the  first  party  I've  ever  been  on.  I  want  nothing 
but  party  talk.  Do  something  to  entertain  me." 

"The  only  thing  I  know  is  reciting  gentle  Alice 
Brown." 

"Isn't  there  anything  more  exciting  than  that  to  do 
on  a  party?  Don't  you  realize  that  this  is  a  party? 
What  do  you  generally  do  to  make  yourself  amusing 
to  girls?" 

"Oh  I  don't  know,  sometimes  I  propose  to  them — 

"Well  then,  propose  to  me.  I've  never  been  pro- 
posed to." 

"With  all  my  heart.    Do  you  accept." 

"Of  course.  DQ  you  think  I  would  lead  you  on  like 
that  and  then  throw  you  over?" 

"Well  then  we're  engaged."  For  some  reason  he 
was  flushing.  He  had  been  dreaming  of  Dizzy  for 
weeks,  ever  since  he  had  caught  sight  of  her  one  night 
at  the  theater.  He  intensely  admired  all  that  he  had 
heard  of  her.  Then  there  was  something  excitingly 
virginal  to  him  in  the  thought  that  she  did  not  go  about 
with  men. 

"When  shall  we  get  married?" 

"Tonight,  at  once,  how  ungallant  of  you.  Isn't  it 
the  tradition  that  a  man  always  wants  to  be  married 
one  minute  after  he  has  been  accepted?" 

"But  we  couldn't  get  a  license  tonight.    I'll  get  one 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  207 

the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  And  arrange  about  a 
minister." 

"I  prefer  a  justice  of  the  peace." 

"So  do  I.  No  fuss.  That's  one  thing  I  can't  under- 
stand. A  girl  .  .  ."  but  Dizzy  was  not  listening. 

"What  a  ride!  Say,  Mr.  Glosser,  can't  you  make 
her  go  any  faster.  Stir  up  a  little  dust." 

"Dust  thou  art,  to  dust  thou  shalt  return,"  was  Mr. 
Glosser's  response.  About  a  third  of  his  conversation 
consisted  of  quotations,  which  were  called  into  being 
by  nothing  more  than  the  use  of  a  word  in  one  of  them 
by  the  person  with  whom  he  was  talking.  The  color 
purple  always  brought  forth  the  remark,  "Aha,  purple 
and  fine  linen!" 

Glosser  having  amiably  lived  nearly  four  decades, 
had  acquired  a  finish,  a  nicety  in  affairs  of  the  heart 
that  enabled  him  to  mingle  with  the  other  sex,  without 
entangling  himself  inescapably.  Though  given  to  gen- 
eral elusive  sentiments  concerning  home  life,  a  wife, 
children,  some  one  to  understand  a  man,  he  was  not 
to  be  caught. 


Ill 


They  dined  at  a  country  club  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  city.  Dinner  was  served  in  an  atmosphere  of 
music  and  gayety  on  a  wide  veranda.  They  danced 
between  bites  of  celery,  and  drinks  of  ginger  ale. 

When  night  had  fallen  and  dinner  was  almost  over, 
Jim  and  Dizzy  sat  watching  Ward  and  Mortimer 
Glosser  dance.  A  warm  intimacy  had  developed  be- 
tween them  out  of  Dizzy's  high  spirits  and  Jim's  ob- 
vious admiration.  "Glosser  is  a  wonder,"  said  Jim. 
Dizzy  liked  the  way  he  said  it — wondah.  His  accent 


208  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

was  almost  English.  "He's  making  all  kinds  of  money, 
and  he's  a  prince  of  a  chap,  too." 

"What  an  ass,"  thought  Dizzy  contemptuously. 
"Anybody  that  would  think  Mortimer  Glosser  a  won- 
der!" She  looked  at  him  curiously  and  forgot  about 
her  contempt  in  admiring  his  profile.  There  was  some- 
thing about  his  skin,  his  bright  blue  eye,  flushed  with 
interest  in  her  that  held  her  attention. 

They  got  up  to  dance.  "I  suppose  this  is  the  sex 
thrill  that  I'm  feeling,"  said  Dizzy  to  herself.  "Hea- 
vens I'll  have  to  be  careful.  Wouldn't  it  be  ridiculous 
if  I  should  fall  in  love  with  this  beautiful  bonehead." 
She  laughed. 

"What's  funny?" 

Her  eyes  met  his.  "I  was  just  thinking  about  our 
married  life  together." 

The  muscles  of  his  nose  and  jaw  contracted.  Again 
she  was  moved. 

"We  will  get  married,"  he  said  with  conviction. 
"It's  no  joke,"  and  pressed  her  body  against  his  in  an 
infinitesimal,  but  breath-taking  caress. 

IV 

They  strolled  out  into  the  darkness. 

"You  know  you're  human,"  said  Jim.  "That's  the 
one  thing  I  was  afraid  of  about  you.  Mort  said  that 
you  were  so  unapproachable;  that  you  never  went  out. 
I  was  afraid  you  would  think  me  an  impossible  dunce. 
Perhaps  you  do?" 

"Of  course  not,"  Dizzy  found  herself  saying  warmly. 
You  do  think  just  that,  said  a  voice  which  she 
snubbed  with  the  sensation  of  removing  a  needle  in  the 
middle  of  a  phonograph  record. 

"I'm  a  dub,"  went  on  Jim,  "but  I  certainly  admire 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  209 

any  one  with  brains.  I  think  its  simply  wonderful  all 
you've  done." 

Never  before  had  Dizzy  had  such  whole-hearted 
adulation.  She  responded  involuntarily. 

"You  know  I'm  so  happy  today  because  I've  just 
had  an  acceptance  from  Hopkins — " 

"Oh  yes,  that  fellow  they  talk  about  so  much.  I 
must  get  some  of  his  books  and  read  them." 

Dizzy  was  delighted  to  think  he  had  heard  of  Hop- 
kins. Perhaps  after  all  she  had  under-estimated  him. 
"It's  just  meant  everything  to  me.  It's  the  thing  I've 
hoped  for  so  long." 

"That's  wonderful,"  he  said  earnestly.  Here  was 
someone  who  really  cared,  Dizzy  felt.  How  could  he 
care,  said  the  voice  feebly,  but  his  whole  self  threw 
out  an  enveloping  cloud  of  devotion,  choking  the  voice 
just  as  it  was  starting  to  jeer  at  her  for  revealing  her 
secret  happiness. 


The  next  day  she  had  just  turned  in  her  story  when 
she  saw  him  coming  across  the  local  room  to  her  desk. 
For  a  moment  she  did  not  know  him,  but  was  dis- 
tracted by  his  handsome  appearance.  "Some  one  com- 
ing to  see  the  stenographer,"  she  thought  to  herself. 
"I  wonder  why  stenographers  always  know  such  hea- 
venly looking — "  he  stopped  by  her  desk  and  she 
recognized  him. 

"Thought  I'd  like  to  take  you  out  to  lunch,"  he  ex- 
plained. 

"But  however  did  you  get  hi  here?  Hardly  anyone 
can  get  into  this  room  without  a  pass  and  a  guide, 
and—" 


210  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Oh  they  let  me  in.  I  go  everywhere.  It's  being 
done  in  our  set  this  season." 

"Being  done  in  our  set  this  season"  was  one  of  the 
phrases  he  used  as  murderously  as  Sari  had  used  "cock- 
eyed" in  the  old  days,  Dizzy  was  thinking.  She 
couldn't  waste  a  second's  time  on  him. 

"I'm  too  busy  to  go  out,"  she  said. 

"Gee,  that's  a  shame.  I  have  a  whale  of  a  nerve 
to  come  butting  in  on  you  this  way,  though.  I  hope 
you'll  excuse  me." 

He  looked  so  disappointed  and  hurt  and  apologetic 
that  Dizzy  said  impulsively.  "I'll  forget  about  work 
and  come  anyway." 

They  lunched  together  in  a  whirlwind  of  nonsense, 
and  when  they  parted  she  had  promised  to  go  to  the 
theater  with  him. 


CHAPTER  IV 


REINED  in  by  the  up-raised  hand  of  the  policeman 
at  Van  Buren  and  Michigan  streets,  the  crowds,  re- 
cently discharged  from  the  entombment  of  the  subur- 
ban station,  breathed  a  massive  impatience  to  join  the 
throngs  on  the  avenue,  tessellated,  barred,  punctuated 
with  frocks  of  summer  colors. 

"Now,  Helene,  you  are  not  going  to  fuss  about  the 
skirt,"  said  Mrs.  Partridge,  as  the  blue-coated  arm 
dropped  and  the  crowd  moved  forward.  "It's  going," 
emphasis  lent  her  a  comic  mask,  "to  be  wide  enough 
for  you  to  step  in!" 

"There's  Dizzy  Harris!" 

"Helene!     Mrs.  Partridge!     Good  afternoon!" 

"You're  just  the  very  lady  I  wanted  to  see,"  said 
Mrs.  Partridge  on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  "Dear 
little  Dizzy,  I  know  you're  always  on  the  look-out  for 
news,  and  I've  just  been  keeping  you  in  mind." 

"Thanks,"  said  Dizzy  lamely.     "You  know — " 

"Now  this  is  what  you  may  print  if  you  want  to  do 
so:  Members  of  the  Lakeshore  woman's  club  object 
to  the  card  parties  that  are  going  on.  If  the  police 
were  to  do  their  duty  these  parties  would  be  raided." 
She  earnestly  stopped  to  glare  at  Dizzy.  Then  con- 
tinued as  if  dictating  to  a  stenographer.  "Since  the 
year  1845  it  has  been  positively  against  the  law  in  the 
state  of  Illinois  to  indulge  in  any  game  of  chance  for 
money.  Now  I  say  nothing  when  the  women  of  my 
neighborhood  play  cards.  That's  their  own  business. 

211 


212  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

I  think  it's  a  bad  business,  a  gambling  business,  but  I 
say  nothing.  When  they  bring  it  into  my  club — 
a  club  that  is  supposed  to  stand  for  something  in  the 
community — then  I  object.  Then  I  put  myself  on 
record  as  being  opposed  to  it — " 

"That's  such  a  good  story  I  should  think  your  hus- 
band would  want  it,"  said  Dizzy  maliciously. 

"Of  course  my  husband  could  put  it  in  for  me,"  said 
Mrs.  Partridge  who  had  been  trying  for  three  days  to 
persuade  him  so  to  humiliate  a  group  of  her  political 
rivals  in  the  club.  "But  I  just  thought  I'd  help  you 
out." 

"It's  kind  of  you,"  said  Dizzy. 

"Has  Ward  heard  from  any  of  that  old  gang  lately? 
Rod  Preston,  Bill  Wicker?"  asked  Helene. 

"Bill  Wicker  was  married  the  other  day.  I  believe 
Ward  got  an  announcement  or  something." 

"I'm  sure  I  pity  the  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Partridge  ab- 
sently. "Well  I'm  afraid  you  girls  get  awfully  lone- 
some without  your  mother.  You  must  come  out  and 
stay  with  us  for  a  little  touch  of  the  real  home  atmos- 
phere that  I  know  you  must  be  hungry  for." 

"Yes,  come  this  week  end,"  urged  Helene  who  was 
eager  to  ask  about  Bill  Wicker's  marriage. 

"Yes,  do,"  said  Mrs.  Partridge,  "I  want  to  hear  all 
about  your  mother.  .  .  Now  about  that  club  busi- 
ness. .  ." 

"I'll  get  the  details  from  you  when  I  come  out,"  said 
Dizzy.  "I'm  late  for  an  appointment  now.  I'll  tell 
Ward  you  invited  us.  .  ." 

"Yes,  I'll  call  you  up  tonight,"  said  Helene,  as  they 
parted.  She  followed  her  mother  who  resumed: 
"These  skirts  which  show  the  contour  of  the  figure 
are  simply  indecent.  .  ." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  213 

Helene  followed  her  mother's  remarks  with  silent 
insulting  comments  which  played  a  dull  accompani- 
ment of  the  patter  she  spoke,  like  the  suppressed  growl 
of  a  caged  beast.  She  was  full  of  a  solid,  sullen  hatred 
of  her  mother.  And  her  heart  was  crying  out  that 
she  had  lost  Wicker  forever. 


II 


Helene  was  now  almost  thirty-three  years  old.  She 
had  been  actively  waiting  for  her  mate  to  come  and 
get  her  for  half  the  years  she  had  lived.  She  believed 
in  the  existence  of  this  man  with  the  constancy  of 
desperation.  If  the  love  legend  was  false,  then  in- 
deed had  she  played  an  unfortunate,  witless  part. 

In  the  lonely  hours  of  the  night  her  faith  in  it  was 
sometimes  shaken  and  she  saw  herself  a  spinster 
through  her  own  ineptitude. 

Sex  in  all  its  baldness  odiously  and  implacably  oc- 
cupied her  fearful  mind,  so  averse  from  unsugared  life, 
until  driven  frantic  she  would  shamefully  put  away 
erotic  thoughts  with  the  palliating  belief  that  she  had 
always  been  so  chaste,  so  pure  that  some  man  would 
surely  desire  her.  She  had  long  ago  ceased  to  hope 
for  a  prince.  Any  man  would  do. 

Bill  Wicker  had  been  her  last  hope.  He  had  paid 
her  some  attention  the  winter  before,  because  he  had 
chanced  to  hear  that  Mrs.  Partridge  considered  him 
dangerous.  At  once  amused  and  flattered,  he  had 
thought  it  piquant  to  give  a  casual  subterranean  imi- 
tation courtship  to  her  daughter. 

Until  now,  though  it  had  been  seven  months  since 
she  had  heard  from  him,  Helene  still  hoped. 


214  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 


III 

Ward  spent  the  following  week  end  with  Helene. 
Dizzy  pleaded  work  and  escaped. 

At  dusk  she  once  more  walked  the  familiar  way  by 
the  quiet  lake.  And  Helene  demanded  the  details  of 
Bill  Wicker's  marriage. 

"Some  wealthy  girl,  I  think,"  said  Ward.  "Nita 
wrote  that  he  wanted  Howard  to  be  the  best  man — " 

"He  married  for  money!"  Helene  quickly  said. 
The  thought  soothed  her  sore  vanity  and  fitted  with 
one  of  her  theories.  "You  know  Mary  Field  is  madly 
in  love  with  him.  Poor  girl.  As  if  he  would  look  at 
her.  He's  paid  her  almost  no  attention.  Never  even 
taken  her  out.  He  used  to  ask  me  about  her  in  the 
most  satirical  way  in  the  days  when  we  used  to  be  so 
much  together.  I  used  to  just  die." 

They  looked  across  the  gray-green  and  melancholy 
expanse  of  lake  in  silence.  Presently  Helene  began  to 
chant: 

"Little  blind  fish,  you  are  marvelous  wise. 
Little   blind   fish   open   up   your   blind   eyes. 
Open  your  ears  while  I   whisper  my  wish. 
Send  me  a  lover    .    .    .    Little  blind  fish." 

She  uttered  the  penultimate  sentiment  in  a  husky 
moving  contralto.  Ward  regarded  her  earnestness 
with  amazement.  "You  act  as  if  you  believe  you  could 
get  a  lover  that  way." 

"It's  sort  of  interesting.  I  have  a  pamphlet  that 
I'll  show  you.  It  says  you  must  whisper  this  ten 
times  on  the  sea-shore  each  evening.  And  raise  your 
hands  afterward  to  the  evening  star  and  say,  "I  know 
that  my  lover  is  coming.  I  will  to  have  my  lover  come. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  215 

Nothing  can  keep  him  from  me."  And  then  finally 
he  conies.  Perhaps  you  could  get  Rod  back  that  way." 

"Oh  I  wouldn't  try,"  said  Ward  hastily. 

"Oh  well,  neither  would  I  try  it  seriously,"  said 
Helene,  offended.  "Heavens!  As  if  I  needed  a  lover. 
I've  always  been  too  busy  keeping  them  away.  Why 
there  was  a  certain  man  with  a  bad  reputation  whom 
mother  wouldn't  let  me  go  around  with.  And  he  felt 
so  badly  about  it  that  I  had  to  see  him  regularly.  He 
used  to  get  sort  of  desperate  because  he  couldn't  come 
out,  so  I  used  to  go  through  the  Art  Institute  with 
him.  He  had  a  wonderful  appreciation.  .  ." 

She  went  on  and  on  about  Wicker,  telling  Ward  in- 
cidents that  she  already  knew  under  the  tissue  paper 
disguise  of  "this  man,"  "a  certain  person."  It  was 
her  policy  in  relating  her  secrets  to  withhold  names. 

"Do  you  ever  think  of  Rod  any  more?"  asked 
Helene. 

"I  think  of  him,  yes.  I  have  never  met  anyone  that 
was  as  wonderful  in  every  way  as  he.  I've  met  men 
with  more  money,  more  brains,  even  better  looking, 
but  no  one  that  had  the  understanding,  the  sympathy, 
that  Rod  has.  He  had  everything." 

"I  knew  a  man  like  that,"  said  Helene  dreamily, 
thinking  of  Wicker. 

Ward's  heart  contracted  suddenly  with  the  old  fear 
that  she  would  become  like  Helene. 


IV 


Sunday  evening  as  Ward  was  preparing  to  leave  for 
the  north  side,  Dizzy  telephoned. 


216  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I'm  downtown  with  Jim,  and  we've  just  met  Morti- 
mer Glosser,  and  a  Mr.  Chester.  Mort  wants  us  to  go 
for  a  ride  in  his  car.  So  bring  Helene  and  meet  us 
after  we've  had  dinner.  We're  going  hi  to  dinner  now. 
Will  you  come?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ward.  "One  moment  until  I  ask 
Helene." 

"Why  do  not  the  young  men  call  for  you?"  asked 
Mrs.  Partridge  assuming  the  comic,  pursed-lipped, 
spinster  aunt  characterization  of  the  stage. 

"They're  all  going  to  dinner,"  explained  Ward. 
"And  it's  so  far  out  here  that  there  wouldn't  be  much 
of  the  evening  left  if  we  waited  for  them  to  drive  way 
out  here.  It's  eight-thirty  now." 

"A  very  late  unsuitable  hour  for  them  to  call,"  said 
Mrs.  Partridge.  "If  they  had  really  cared  for  your 
company  this  evening,  they  would  have  arranged  for 
it  sooner." 

"You  see,  I  think  they  only  just  thought  of  it  now, 
when  they  met  my  sister,"  said  Ward.  "Mort  has  been 
spending  the  day  with  a  Mr.  Chester,  a  mans  I've 
often  heard  him  speak  of.  He  and  Jim  both  admire 
him  very  much  because  he's  such  a  good  business  man 
or  something.  He's  president  of  the  Radium  Baking 
Soda  Company,  and  interested  in  half  a  dozen  other 
important  things." 

"He  may  be  married,"  said  Mrs.  Partridge.  "Did 
you  ever  think  of  that?  Men  like  nothing  better  than 
to  take  a  young  girl  out  and  ruin  her  reputation.  You 
can't  be  too  careful." 

"I'm  sure  he's  not  married,"  said  Ward.  "I  don't 
think  that  Mortimer  Glosser  would  ask  Dizzy  and  me 
to  go  partying  with  him  if  he  were." 

But  Mrs.  Partridge's  protesting  tone  was  one  of 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  217, 

consent.  She  followed  the  girls  to  Helene's  room  and 
advised  them  to  take  the  first  opportunity  of  letting 
the  young  men  know  that  they  weren't  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  men  on  street  corners. 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  early  summer  night  had  fallen  on  Michigan 
boulevard  as  the  girls  came  out  of  the  submerged  stone 
station  at  Van  Buren  street,  and  walked  up  the  almost 
deserted  cement  channel  to  the  avenue. 

Mortimer  Glosser's  car  at  the  curb  let  out  Jim  to 
welcome  them.  Dizzy  climbed  into  the  front  seat  be- 
side Mortimer,  and  Jim  squatted  in  the  space  between. 
In  back  Osbert  Chester  sat  between  Ward  and  Helene. 
He  was  a  handsome  small  featured  man,  past  thirty- 
eight  with  a  splash  of  gray  in  the  hair  around  his  tem- 
ples like  a  dash  of  talcum  powder.  He  had  for  both 
men  and  women,  a  magnetism  that  was  not  justified  by 
either  his  brains  or  ability.  This  witchery,  which  had 
a  touch  of  the  woman  about  it,  served  him  more  po- 
tently than  any  art,  industry,  or  good  fortune  could 
have  done  in  business  and  in  love.  When  he  spoke, 
men  listened.  When  he  repeated  a  banal  anecdote 
from  vaudeville,  men  laughed  and  when  he  looked  at 
women,  they  were  stirred  with  a  nebulous  longing — a 
feeling  that  they  had  missed  the  romantic,  the  poetic 
in  life.  And  they  would  speak  crossly  to  their  own 
husbands  about  barbers,  tailors — why  could  not  all 
men  look  like  Oz  Chester? 

Oz  devoted  himself  to  Ward.  He  talked  about 
himself,  with  enough  reticence  concerning  other  women 
to  touch  a  sense  of  mystery  and  wonder  in  Ward.  He 
flattered  her  soundly,  warmly,  consistently,  and  with 

218 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  219 

that  careless  flippancy  which  lends  an  edge,  a  finish, 
a  kick  to  words  of  adulation. 

At  a  road  house,  north  of  Chicago,  they  stopped. 
On  an  enclosed  terrace  down  a  flight  of  stairs 
people  were  dancing. 

As  the  music  stopped  three  or  four  pairs  of  men 
and  women  came  ungracefully  up  the  stairs.  A  fat 
man  wheezed  up  panting  like  a  scrub  woman  carrying 
a  bucket  of  water. 

"That's  Woodgood!  You've  heard  of  him.  Wood- 
good  shoes,  with  a  chain  of  cheap  stores  all  over  the 
country?"  said  Oz  to  Ward. 

"Do  you  know  him?" 

"Well,  I  do,  and  I  don't.  You  see  he  married  my 
wife,"  he  raised  his  brows  humorously. 

His  wife! 

"You've  been  married?" 

"When  I  was  twenty.  It  lasted  three  years.  Then 
she  got  tired,  and  married  Woodgood." 

"That's  not  .  .  .  that's  not  your  wife  with  him?" 

"Lord  no!  That's  some  cutey  girl,  I  imagine.  My 
former  wife  is  a  tall  solemn-looking  woman  now,  who 
goes  in  for  doing  good.  She  heads  movements,  and 
carries  ice  to  sick  babies  in  the  slums  or  something,  I 
believe." 

Ward  did  not  hear  what  he  said  to  her  for  the  next 
half  hour.  She  was  keenly  disappointed  to  think  that 
this  delightful  Oz  had  been  married  before.  At  best 
then,  she  could  only  be  second  choice,  if  he  had  cared 
about  someone  else  enough  to  marry  her.  Her  spirits 
were  lowered,  her  life  suddenly  dulled,  she  felt  almost 
sick. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Ward?  Come  out  of 
it!" 

She  looked  up  to  find  him  gazing  steadily  at  her. 


220  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

She  smiled.  How  dear,  and  sweet,  how  kind  and 
thoughtful  he  was. 

As  the  evening  progressed  Ward  and  Oz  became 
more  and  more  engrossed  in  each  other.  Dizzy  and 
Jim,  too,  seemed  unconscious  that  they  alone  did  not 
make  the  entire  party.  Mortimer  Glosser,  devoting 
himself  to  Helene  was  soon  ready  to  leave. 

"The  party's  just  begun,"  said  Oz. 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  go,"  said  Dizzy  doubtfully 
thinking  of  her  morning's  work. 

"Nonsense,  nonsense,"  said  Oz,  and  seized  the 
willing  Ward  for  a  dance. 

After  some  talking  and  arguing,  Dizzy  and  Jim, 
Mortimer  and  Helene  rose  to  leave,  but  Oz,  flushed 
and  happy  after  his  dance,  refused  to  hear  of  going 
home. 

"Ward  and  I  will  come  later,"  he  insisted  exuber- 
antly. And  Ward,  already  under  his  influence,  con- 
sented. 

On  the  way  home  in  the  taxi  cab  he  put  his  arm 
around  her  and  kissed  her  abruptly. 

"Well,"  he  said  smiling  down  at  her.  "What  do  you 
think  of  that?" 

"It's  wonderful,"  said  Ward. 

He  moved  nearer,  enclosed  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her  again  and  again. 

When  she  reached  home,  turned  the  light  on  to  stare 
at  her  happy  face,  she  realized  in  a  second  of  amazed 
uneasiness  that  he  had  not  proposed  to  her.  Marriage 
had  not  been  mentioned. 


II 


The  next  morning  at  eleven  he  called  up  and  asked 
her  to  meet  him  downtown  and  lunch  with  him. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  221 

When  they  had  eaten,  they  walked  leisurely  among 
the  hurrying  noon  crowds. 

"It's  jolly,  isn't  it,"  he  smiled.  "I  almost  lost  you 
that  time." 

"It's  fun!"  Ward  beamed.  "Every  one  hates  us  so 
for  not  hurrying  too." 

"I  want  to  buy  you  something,"  said  Oz.  "Here, 
let's  go  in  here.  What  can  I  get  you?  Good  heavens, 
I've  never  bought  you  a  present!  What  can  I  give 
you?" 

He  pulled  her  into  a  jewelry  store.  Surprised, 
pleased,  she  was  unable  to  protest. 

"Do  you  have  a  wrist  watch?  How  do  you  like  that 
diamond  shaped  one?  Here  let's  see  that,  young  fel- 
low." 

He  would  not  heed  her  protests  and  bought  her  a 
watch.  She  accepted,  because  she  found  herself  un- 
able to  resist  him.  He  wanted  to  give  it,  so  boyishly, 
so  happily. 

"I  want  to  buy  you  something  else.  What  else  can 
I  buy  you?" 

"Some  flowers?"  suggested  Ward,  smiling. 

"Oh  Lord  yes,  flowers.  Why  didn't  I  think  of  that 
before.  You  like  flowers?  I'll  leave  an  order  for  you 
to  have  some  every  day.  Let's  see,  there's  a  good 
place  up  near  the  Congress." 

They  found  his  car  and  turned  up  Michigan  boule- 
vard to  buy  the  flowers.  That  wouldn't  do.  These 
wouldn't  do.  Here  how  about  these?  All  right.  Do 
you  like  them,  Ward?  They  were  back  in  the  machine, 
driving  north  in  the  afternoon  sunlight.  Happy,  white- 
shod  people  on  the  shop-side  of  the  avenue  flitted 
through  their  absorption  in  each  other  like  a  pastel 
chorus  emphasizing  a  love  scene  in  the  background  of 
a  musical  show.  On  the  park  side  there  was  the  gay 


222  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

holiday  air  of  summer.  Tourists  wandered  on  the 
wide  pavements.  Motors  flew  gaily  along.  From  the 
lake  came  a  soft  breeze,  pungent  now  and  then  with 
the  water  freshness  reminding  them  of  its  blue  sheen, 
off  there  beyond  the  park. 

They  came  to  the  big  bridge  and  looked  out  over 
the  harbor,  during  a  pause  in  the  traffic. 
"A  wonderful  day." 
"Isn't  it?" 

Their  happiness  was  as  big  and  shimmeringly  color- 
ful as  the  lake,  which  shone  fully  revealed  off  to 
their  right.  They  were  unconscious  of  the  docks  be- 
side the  river,  below  and  behind  them. 

"You  know  I  like  this  old  town,"  said  Oz  in  a 
burst  of  enthusiasm. 

"I,  too,  I  love  it.  Especially  the  lake!" 
"Yes,  I  can't  see  a  town  that  isn't  built  on  water. 
Then  there's  something  about  Chicago.  In  summer 
you  can  find  so  many  attractive  places  to  have  a  good 
time  in.  Clubs,  drives,  and  hotels,  wonderful  summer 
hotels  on  the  lake." 

They  sped  down  Michigan  Avenue,  part  of  the 
swiftly  changing  auto  parade — on  the  wide  smooth 
street.    Oak  street,  a  curving  yellow  mat,  stuck  with 
humans  in  bathing  suits,  like  flies  on  gummed  paper. 
"Oh,  we  must  go  swimming  some  day!" 
"Oh,  we  must!" 

And  so  on.  Sitting  close,  two  organisms  running 
smoothly  in  harmony  with  each  other,  throbbing  rhyth- 
mically like  the  perfect  engine  beneath  them  that  car- 
ried them  forward  on  and  on.  Happy  to  exchange  the 
obvidus  reactions  each  felt  to  the  summer  day.  Living 
in  the  contact  of  their  eyes. 
Sheridan  Road. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  223 

"Here's  the  kind  of  house  for  us,  when  we're  mar- 
ried," said  Oz. 

Married.  Oh  are  we  going  to  get  married?  The 
question  rose  to  Ward's  lips,  but  she  didn't  say  it. 
Her  face  said  it,  and  Oz  exclaimed  bending  over  her: 

"Ward,  you're  a  wild  rose,  that's  what  you  are.  I 
didn't  know  there  was  anything  like  you  in  the  world." 

The  motor  hummed.  They  flew  on,  past  the  stroll- 
ers, past  the  bathers,  past  the  tennis  players,  past 
everybody  until  they  were  alone  in  a  hot  sweet  world, 
drinking  in  the  cup  of  warm  honey  that  a  kind,  amaz- 
ing fate  had  put  to  their  lips. 

Ill 

After  tea  they  parted  reluctantly.  Oz  had  a  busi- 
ness engagement  for  dinner.  He  began  regretting  it  at 
four,  and  complained  constantly  for  three  hours,  be- 
fore he  left  her.  "I'll  get  rid  of  him  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible and  call  you  up,"  he  said  as  he  left  her  door. 

She  sat  beside  the  telephone  from  eight  until  ten. 
When  he  rang  he  was  already  in  the  lobby  of  the 
hotel. 

"I'm  downstairs:  come  on  out  for  a  walk." 

They  strolled  slowly  through  the  caressing  summer 
night,  gala  with  automobiles  which  seemed  to  be  en- 
tities in  themselves,  huge  iron  animals  on  their  way 
to  a  party.  Popcorn  wagons  sang  on  street  corners. 
Girls  giggled  loudly  at  passing  boys.  And  into  the 
park  men  and  women  were  walking  two  and  two.  har- 
moniously, steadily,  like  the  animals  going  into  the 
ark. 

Ward  and  Oz  joined  this  procession  of  the  saved. 
They,  too,  were  rescued  from  damnation  since  they 
had  found  each  other. 


224  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

He  kissed  her  again  and  again,  while  she  happily 
gave  him  her  lips. 

"I  wish  I  wouldn't  kiss  you  like  this  Ward,  but  I 
can't  help  it." 

How  horrid!  Why  did  he  wish  that?  How 
strained  his  voice  was! 

"I  certainly  am  crazy  about  you,"  he  said,  and 
kissed  her  again.  She  clung  to  him,  trying  with  her 
whole  body  to  take  the  wish  out  of  him  that  he  had 
expressed. 

"I  wish  I  could  stop  kissing  you!" 

Why?  Ward,  silently  hurt,  did  not  move  in  his 
arms. 

"We  must  go  back,"  said  Oz.  "It's  getting  late. 
We  shouldn't  have  come  out." 

"It's  only  about  eleven." 

"Ward,  you  child!     You  precious  babyl" 

He  strained  her  in  his  arms.  Ward  trembled.  "Per- 
haps we  should  go  in." 

He  pushed  her  away  resolutely.  "Yes,  we  should." 
This  sudden  business-like  tone  interrupted  the  music 
of  the  night  for  Ward  like  a  xylophone  chiming  in 
with  a  violin  solo. 

It  was  a  sin  against  the  young  love  that  stirred  her. 
She  allowed  him  to  lead  her  home,  slightly  piqued. 

In  bed,  she  lay  awake,  alternating  blissful  remem- 
brance with  those  apprehensions  about  the  princeliness 
of  Oz,  which  she  felt  when  he  told  her  he  had  been 
married  and  divorced. 

IV 

Oz  left  her  to  call  upon  a  woman  who  had  insisted 
upon  seeing  him  that  night,  a  Mrs.  Marchrose,  with 
whom  he  had  been  on  intimate  terms  for  a  number 
of  years. 


CHAPTER  VI 


JANET  MILLWRIGHT,  whose  conversation  was  a  col- 
lectanea, fascinated  Dizzy.  Janet  memorized  whole 
passages  from  books  and  delivered  them  in  a  pro- 
found manner.  Her  literary  patter  was  limitless. 
She  was  incapable  of  sane  consecutive  thought.  Dizzy 
did  not  discover  this. 

Janet  was  in  love  with  Raleigh  Minster,  who  was  a 
labor  agitator.  He  had  become  a  sort  of  drawing- 
room  strike  fomenter.  He  lectured  before  women's 
clubs,  causing  angular  members  to  rise  from  an  audi- 
ence, like  wrathful  towers  appearing  over  a  horizon, 
and  argue  such  questions  as  "What  is  one  hundred 
percent  Americanism?" 

Very  often  on  pleasant  afternoons  Janet  and  Dizzy 
would  tramp  along  Michigan  avenue,  staring  into  shop 
windows  making  outrageous  hilarious  remarks  about 
what  they  saw,  buying  each  other  imaginary  ward- 
robes and  earnestly  discussing  love,  sex,  capitalism, 
art,  the  stage  and  Raleigh  Minster. 

Janet  was  making  up  her  mind  to  go  and  live  with 
the  young  radical.  Marriage  was  outside  his  code,  and, 
since  ^he  had  met  him,  outside  hers. 

II 

Dizzy  sat  at  her  desk  in  the  Times  office  writing. 
It  was  just  past  the  time  when  the  reporters'  stories 
for  the  home  edition  had  to  be  in,  and  not  yet  press 

225 


226  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

time.  So  nearly  the  whole  staff  lounged  idly  in  the 
local  room  waiting  for  twelve-thirty  when  they  would 
be  released  for  luncheon. 

Dizzy  had  an  ambition  to  learn  the  touch  system 
of  typewriting  and  so  she  let  her  gaze  wander  idly 
about  the  room  and  wrote  anything  that  came  into  her 
head: 

"Jim  Stein,  notable  of  the  office,  lounges  over  the 
desk  of  Beverly  Jackson,  who  is  said  to  be  a  poet,  and 
who  has  gained  much  local  fame  among  the  pseudo 
highbrows,  as  a  defender  of  the  laboring  man  who 
frets  out  his  days  in  the  sweatshops  of  the  republic, 
and  whose  only  playground  is  the  tenement  roof.  Boo- 
hoo,  weep  the  sentimental  over  it,  but  not  Bev.  Bev 
only  writes  stuff  to  cause  the  sentimental  to  boo-hoo. 

"Jim  Stein  understands  it.  Jim  Stein  understands 
everything  that  has  to  do  with  moods,  and  class  con- 
ditions and  learning  and  literature.  The  reason  he 
understands  so  much  is  because  he  has  never  been  to 
school.  He  learned  philosophy  out  of  yellow  lecture 
pamphlets  for  sale  at  street  corner  book  shops  where 
second  hand  books  bulged  out  over  the  counter. 

"The  rest  of  the  office  are  low  brow.  They  delight 
in  standing  about  and  cracking  jokes.  They  pull  each 
other's  legs,  and  trip  each  other  up.  They  love  to  put 
coins  down  on  the  table,  and  see  who  is  able  to  glean 
the  harvest  by  having  heads  when  all  the  rest  have 
tails.  They  love  to  express  their  willingness  to  bet 
fifty  dollars  that  John  Michael  O'Malley,  or  Patrick 
Flanagan  will  be  the  first  president  of  Palestine,  or 
that  the  latest  archbishop  to  be  appointed  is  a  secret 
dope  fiend.  They  know  all  sorts  of  strange  things 
that  no  one  else  in  the  world.  .  ." 

"Ooh,  have  you  heard  the  news?"  Jim  Stein,  eye- 
brows raised  deprecatingly,  lids  drooping,  made  a  half 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  227 

gesture  from  his  elbow.  He  drew  out  "ooh"  in  a  long 
sigh,  more  expressive  than  another  man's — "God!" 

"Petie  Burns  is  back  from  New  York." 

"Oh  is  he?    Did  he  see  Hopkins?" 

"I  haven't  seen  him  yet.  But  I'm  waiting  to  see 
his  face  when  he  hears  the  news  about  Pearl." 

"What  news?" 

"Pearl  and  Jones  got  married  last  night." 

"Jones?" 

"The  long  slim  pallid  bird  with  the  gold  teeth  on 
the  copy  desk,  you  know  him.  The  guy  with  some 
bilious  trouble  and  big  ears,  like  wings  that  look  as  if 
he's  going  to  flap  them  and  fly  away  to  heaven.  Pearl 
says,  he's  her  ideal  man,  and  Georgie  Cotton  is  weep- 
ing down  in  the  wash  room,  and  telling  everybody 
that  will  listen  how  he  put  his  head  on  her  lap  one 
night  and  she  said,  'Georgie  you  appeal  to  the  ma- 
ternal instinct  in  me  so,  and  it's  simply  wonderful!' 
Harold  Smith  has  gone  home  to  his  wife,  ill  about  it. 
Here  she  was  respectably  married  last  night,  and  not 
one  of  the  three  had  a  chance  to  seduce  her.  And 
she  learned  how  to  be  awful  lit'ry  from  'em  and 
married  some  one  else." 

Georgie  Cotton,  who  spent  his  leisure  hours  patron- 
izing the  denizens  of  Lake  Forest  because  they  were 
not  literary,  and  his  business  hours  patronizing  the 
staff  of  the  Times  because  they  were  not  mentioned 
in  the  social  register,  now  came  toward  them  in  his 
amiable  and  knock-kneed  manner. 

"Well  Dizzy,  Petie's  back  from  New  York.  Won- 
der if  he  saw  Hopkins.  I  told  him  to  put  in  a  good 
word  with  Hopkins  for  you." 

Dizzy  looked  scornful. 

"You  know  I  discovered  this  little  gal,"  went  on 
Georgie,  "I  used  to  think  she  was  just  an  ordinary 


228  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

flapper  from  the  U.,  but,  darn  it,  she's  got  brains. 
Course  you  know,  Dizzy,  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  be 
down  in  this  office  working.  It's  no  place  for  you. 
You're  too  ...  well,  too  darn  lyrical  to  be  wasted  on 
a  newspaper  office." 

Dizzy  looked  more  scornful,  and  would  have  said 
something  had  not  Petie  Burns,  dapper,  petite,  hand- 
some as  a  shoe  clerk  bowed  himself  into  the  local  room 
like  a  star  making  his  first  appearance. 

"I  wanta  see  Dizzy.    Got  something  to  tell  Dizzy!" 

Jim  Stein  and  Georgie  Cotton  crowded  him  eagerly 
as  he  addressed  himself  to  Dizzy. 

"Yeah.  Hot,  dusty  trip.  New  York's  hot  as  hell. 
Yeah,  say  listen  Dizzy  Harris,  say  I  can't  stay  a 
minute  I  gotta  tell  Dizzy  something.  Say,  I  pulled  off 
the  best  thing  of  my  young  career  on  those  gay  birds 
in  New  York. 

Dizzy  was  eagerly  attentive. 

"Hopkins  was  a  prince.  He  showed  me  a  wonderful 
time.  Well,  the  last  night  he  took  me  out  to  dinner, 
'By  the  way,  Burns,'  he  said  to  me.  'By  the  way — 
and  say,  Jim  I  showed  Gotz  that  play  you  wrote  and 
he  thought  it  was  a  riot — Hopkins  says  to  me,  'who's 
this  boy  Harris  that's  sending  stuff  to  me  from  your 
office.  He's  sending  me  some  mighty  good  stuff! ' ' 

"No,"  said  Dizzy,  beside  herself  with  joy.  "Did 
he  say  that?" 

"Yeah,  well,  I  let  him  rave  for  a  while,  just  sitting 
back  and  saying  nothing,  and  then — "  he  showed  his 
even  white  teeth  at  the  recollection — "finally  there 
was  a  silence.  I  waited  for  it,  cause  I  knew  I  had  a 
good  one  to  spring.  So  I  said,  'This  chap  Harris  is 
just  about  the  cutest  little  flapper  of  a  girl  reporter 
that  ever  worked  on  the  old  sheet!'  Yeah!" 

Dizzy  uttered  a  little  cry,  drowned  out  by  Georgie 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  229 

Cotton  slapping  himself,  country  fashion,  and  Jim 
Stein  uttering  a  long  "ooh!" 

"It  was  wonderful,"  went  on  Burns.  "It  knocked 
Hopkins  out  of  his  seat.  He  thinks  he's  such  a  wise 
owl.  Nobody  can  ever  fool  him.  That's  what  he 
thinks.  And  then  being  made  to  look  silly  by  a  little 
girl  like  Dizzy.  Gee,  I  rubbed  it  in.  I  told  him  all 
about  your  beaux,  and  how  I  had  seen  you  around 
town  with  Mort  Glosser  and  Oz  Chester.  I  give  you 
my  word  that  he  just  sat  there  with  his  mouth  open  for 
half  an  hour  straight.  .  ." 

As  he  recapitulated  his  triumph,  Dizzy's  eyes 
opened  wide,  and  the  lower  muscles  of  her  face 
twitched.  Georgie  and  Jim,  eager  to  relate  the  story 
of  Pearl's  marriage,  closed  the  conversation  over  her 
head.  She  stumbled  out  of  the  room  that  the  boys 
might  not  see  that  she  was  crying. 


CHAPTER  VII 


WHEN  work  was  done  she  put  on  her  hat  and  wan- 
dered over  into  the  park.  The  great  romance  that 
Dizzy  had  always  cherished  was  killed  by  the  revela- 
tion that  Petie  had  made  to  Hopkins.  She  had  wanted 
to  be  E.  W.  Harris,  one  of  the  younger  writing  men 
of  America.  She  hated  women  writers  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  or  two,  conceiving  them  to  be  like  her 
mother,  sending  messages,  having  missions.  It  was 
unbearable  to  think  of  being  classed  among  them,  by 
a  man  like  Hopkins. 

Not  only  that.  She  had  appeared  before  Hopkins  in 
the  character  of  a  flapper  who  spent  her  time  running 
about  from  club  to  restaurant,  from  dance  to  dinner 
party.  She,  Dizzy  Harris,  was  being  thought  a  friv- 
olous little  butterfly  girl  by  the  great  Hopkins,  the 
only  man  on  the  continent  whose  critical  opinion  mat- 
tered a  jot  to  her.  And  she  had  meant  to  make  him 
accept  her  as  the  peer  of  any  American  writer.  She 
had  meant  to  match  her  brains  and  energy  with  the 
best  minds  in  the  country  behind  the  masculine  E.  W. 
Harris.  And  now  Petie  Burns  for  the  sake  of  making 
a  clever  remark  at  a  dinner  party  had  stopped  this 
plan  forever.  She  felt  as  if  she  could  never  write 
another  line.  The  humiliation  seemed  to  sear  deeper 
and  deeper  as  she  remembered  Petie's  description  of 
her  as  the  cutest  little  flapper  of  a  girl  reporter  in  the 
city. 

A  feeling  of  fathomless  disgust  with  life,  with  heri 

230 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  231 

ambitions,  overcame  her,  and  she  sank  down  on  a 
cold  stone  bench,  mindless  of  the  fact  that  it  chilled 
her.  Her  hopes,  how  tawdry,  her  ambitions,  how 
cheap!  After  all  what  did  it  matter,  what  did  any- 
thing matter?  What  a  fool  she  was  to  think  she  could 
escape  from  her  sex. 

It  was  in  this  mood  that  Jim  Howells  found  her.  As 
she  saw  him  approaching  it  seemed  to  her  that  here 
was  a  fresh  channel  for  her  mind  to  wander  in.  In 
him,  she  could  forget  all  her  past  life,  which  at  that 
moment  seemed  spoiled,  useless  and  begin  all  over 
again  as  a  different  Dizzy  Harris,  as  clear  and  beauti- 
ful as  an  admired  person,  newly  met. 

"Well,  how  are  you  this  evening!"  She  had  long 
since  ceased  to  notice  his  banalities.  "You  look 
tired!" 

"I  am  tired,"  she  said,  drinking  hi  his  sympathy  as 
she  had  never  done  with  anyone  before.  "I  am  dis- 
couraged, sick,  and  a  dreadful  thing  has  happened." 

He  was  immediately  concerned,  interested.  But 
when  she  had  told  him  the  cause  of  her  grief,  it 
puzzled  him. 

"Why  should  you  care?  This  Hopkins  will  prob- 
ably think  you're  even  more  clever  when  he  finds  out 
you're  a  woman." 

"That's  the  horrible  part  of  it.  Don't  you  see? 
I  don't  want  to  be  just  clever.  From  now  on,  how  can 
he  ever  take  my  work  seriously.  The  sort  of  thing  I 
do  would  be  all  right  coming  from  a  man,  but  from 
a  woman,  a  cute  little  flapper — it  would  be  simply 
ridiculous,  at  best  only  imitative  in  a  clever  way. 
Can't  you  see  how  Hopkins  will  regard  anything  I 
send  now?" 

"No,  I  can't,"  said  Jim.  "If  he  is  as  great  as  you 
think  he  is  he'll  simply  judge  what  you  write  on  its 


232  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

merits  and  won't  care  a  hang  whether  you're  a  man, 
woman  or  child — that's  the  way  I  look  at  it." 

"Oh  Jim,  I  feel  as  if  I  can't  write  another  line.  I 
never  want  to  see  a  typewriter  again.  My  whole  life 
seems  so  hopeless,  so  senseless." 

Jim  clasped  her  hand. 

"Forget  about  it,  and  marry  me,  can't  you?" 

Dizzy  looked  at  him.  She  saw  in  his  tensed  body, 
his  worried  face,  his  anxious  eyes  that  he  meant  it. 
There  was  a  long  strained  silence  while  they  looked  at 
each  other. 

"You  mean  you  really  care  about  me?"  Dizzy  asked. 

"I  guess  I've  made  that  plain  enough,  haven't  I ! " 

Still  they  both  sat  in  paralyzed  silence,  stupidly 
staring.  All  at  once  they  kissed,  began  to  talk  in- 
coherently, brokenly.  Both  were  radiantly,  shiningly 
happy. 

"I  guess  I'm  hungry,"  said  Dizzy  suddenly. 

"Haven't  you  had  your  dinner?"  he  wanted  to  know 
anxiously. 

"No!" 

"Poor  child.  Well,  we'll  have  to  go  and  hang  on 
the  feed  bag." 

They  went  off  joyously,  arm  in  arm  together. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


MENTALLY  inexpensive!     Mentally  inexpensive! 

It  was  a  phrase  that  went  over  and  over  in  Dizzy's 
mind,  idiotically,  annoyingly.  It  first  wanted  to  thrust 
itself  into  a  story  Dizzy  was  writing  a  few  moments 
before  the  deadline,  and  when  she  rejected  it,  it 
bobbed  up  again  and  again.  Silly,  pseudo-clever  kind 
of  thing,  Dizzy  thought  scornfully.  But  it  wouldn't 
go  away. 

She  met  Jim  for  luncheon  afterwards.  They  sat 
opposite  each  other,  smiling  and  absorbed,  at  a  table 
the  size  of  a  ouija  board,  crowded  like  checkers  in  a 
box  among  similar  tables  in  the  Hotel  La  Salle  Dutch 
Room. 

"I  suppose  you  spent  a  very  busy  morning?"  said 
Jim,  pushing  the  large  menu  away  definitely,  as  he  fin- 
ished ordering.  This  was  his  inevitable  conversational 
opening.  Dizzy,  taking  pleasure  in  the  way  the  words 
formed  themselves  on  his  lips,  mysteriously  different 
from  the  same  trite  phrases  in  anyone  else's  mouth, 
was  unconscious  of  almost  everything  but  the  delicate 
gold  and  rose  haze  in  which  they  were  both  living. 
The  flush  in  his  cheek,  the  bright  sweet  tender  look 
in  his  eyes,  the  set  of  his  head,  his  hand  on  the  table, 
slim  fingered,  sensitive,  altogether  a  magnetic  kind  of 
hand;  these  were  realities  to  Dizzy.  An  inanely  con- 
ventional conversation  took  place  between  them  until 
Jim  turned  with  a  more  personal  interest  into  some- 
thing, very  dull  to  Dizzy,  about  the  profits  that  his 

233 


234  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

firm  had  made  during  the  preceding  year.    He  took  a 
paper  from  his  pocket  and  read  her  some  figures. 

"Of  course  I  wouldn't  want  you  to  mention  any  of 
this,"  he  said  apologetically,  as  if  he  knew  it  was  un- 
necessary to  tell  her  this. 

Dizzy's  dream  fabric  was  ripped  with  an  ugly  gash. 
She  realized  that  he  was  confiding  business  secrets  in 
her,  expecting  her  to  be  interested,  thrilled  with  the 
glamour  of  big  business,  and  moreover  to  excite  her- 
self over  the  possibility  of  his  own  commercial  success, 
thought  as  their  eyes  met,  and  he  said,  boyishly, 
But  her  curtain  of  happiness  closed  quickly  over  the 
abruptly,  "Tell  me,  Dizzy,  when  shall  it  be?" 

"Oh  Jim,  a  long  time,  I  think.  .  .  And  yet  it's  silly 
to  wait.  I  don't  know.  It's  such  a  new  idea  to  me. 
I  haven't  told  anyone,  yet.  Not  even  Ward.  And  I 
want  to  tell  her.  And  then  mother  must  be  told,  too. 
I'm  rather  dreading  having  people  know  about  it.  It's 
all  so  warm  and  safe  bottled  up  between  us  two.  I'm 
afraid  it  will  disappear  in  thin  air,  like  some  precious 
perfume,  if  its  diffused  among  a  lot  of  people." 

"It  won't  disappear  unless  you  change  your  mind. 
You  know  Dizzy,  I  can't  realize  it.  I  can't  believe  it. 
Every  time  I  see  you,  I  think  she's  going  to  tell  me 
she's  changed  her  mind.  She  doesn't  really  mean  it. 
It's  all  a  dream  and  she's  bound  to  wake  up  soon  to 
what  a  duffer  I  am." 

"I  don't  change  my  mind  very  easily.  By  the  way, 
Jim  I'm  going  to  take  you  over  to  the  Custard  Pie 
Club  tonight  to  meet  my  sister  Sari.  You  know,  I've 
told  you,  she  lives  in  the  place.  .  ." 

"I'd  like  to  go  to  that  Custard  Pie  Club,  I've  heard 
so  much  about  it.  I  thought  it  was  pretty  wild." 

"Not  really.  Some  of  the  pseudo-Bohesimians  who 
hang  around  talk  wildly,  but  it's  not  really  so  very 
bad. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  235 


II 

Sari  was  not  in  when  Dizzy  and  Jim  opened  the 
door  of  the  club  that  night.  There  was  no  meeting  but 
a  group  lounged  in  one  corner  talking  about  establish- 
ing a  little  theater  in  the  hall  upstairs. 

A  wall-eyed  artist  stretched  at  full  length  on  a 
bench  was  speaking,  "Youse  birds  is  gotta  be  free  if 
youse  want  to  elevate  the  drama  here.  The  trouble 
with  all  these  here  little  the-ayters  is  that  they've  had 
some  wealthy  boy  backing  them,  and  he  wants  to  run 
the  whole  push.  See?" 

"Hello,  Dizzy,"  called  Texas  Flynn.  "Say  we're 
going  to  start  the  swellest  little  the-ayter  upstairs  you 
ever  seen.  You  can  write  a  story  about  it  if  you  want 
to.  Sari  is  going  to  act,  and  I've  got  the  swellest 
director — Pat  Scovall." 

"Big  stuff,"  said  a  little  blond  Jewess  whose  enor- 
mous hazel  eyes  had  never  left  Tex's  face.  She  was 
very  popular  with  the  Custard  Pies  because  it  was  her 
invariable  remark  uttered  in  heart-felt  tones. 

Dizzy  and  Jim  took  seats  while  Tex  went  on  to  ex- 
plain the  idea.  They  had  the  hall  there,  and  the 
director,  and  they  could  get  actors.  They  would  be 
independent  of  patronage.  Original  plays  were  to  be 
given  as  the  Drama  workshop  had  done;  they  would 
surpass  the  Maurice  Browne  company  in  putting  on 
new  and  untried  plays. 

The  entrance  of  Pat  Scovell  was  the  signal  for  a 
quarrel  to  begin  between  him  and  a  girl  with  promi- 
nent teeth  and  adenoids  who  wanted  to  do  Strind- 
berg's  "Miss  Julie." 

"Say,  Tex,  I've  got  a  swell  play  on  the  Irish  free- 
dom. It'll  knock  'em  out  of  their  seats — " 


236  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Play!"  said  the  girl  with  the  adenoids  contemp- 
tuously. "Rant,  you  mean.  An  old  mother  sitting  in 
her  cottage  whining  about  Irish  independence,  and 
they  bring  in  one  son  after  another,  dead.  It's  impos- 
sible. I  couldn't  do  it.  We  ought  to  open  with  some- 
thing dramatic  like  'Julie.'  I  know  I  could  do  'Julie' 
and  it's  never  been  done  here — " 

"Now  listen  here,  Baby  honey,"  said  Pat,  giving  her 
a  few  paws  on  the  shoulder.  "Julie  is  too  hard  to 
start  with.  There's  nobody  could  take  that  man's 
part.  Nobody  but  me  that  we  could  get  that  would  be 
able  to  do  it." 

"You  learn  it,  Pat,"  urged  the  girl.  "It  would  be 
splendid.  Oh,  I  think  it  would  be  a  wonderful — " 

Tex  Flynn  came  over  and  began  talking  confiden- 
tially to  Dizzy. 

"Say,  this  is  going  to  be  great  stuff,  do  you  know  it? 
Sherwood  Anderson's  writing  a  play  about  me.  Say 
it's  going  to  be  the  swellest  thing  you  ever  seen."  He 
grinned.  "You  see,  the  curtain  goes  up,  and  there  I 
am  sitting,  paintin'.  See."  He  grinned  and  sucked  in 
again,  as  he  turned  and  decorated  the  air  with  an 
imaginary  brush.  Jim  regarded  him  with  a  disgust 
that  was  ready  to  take  Jim  out  of  his  own  conventional 
armor  if  the  man  approached  any  nearer  to  Dizzy. 
"I'm  paintin'  a  house.  There  I  sit,  on  a  board,  and 
the  curtain  goes  up — " 

The  entrance  of  Janet  Millwright  and  Raleigh 
Minster  turned  his  attention  fortunately,  and  Jim 
who  had  been  sitting  like  a  wary  watch  dog  in  a  cor- 
ner, relaxed  a  little,  took  a  deep  breath  and  showed  his 
discomfort  only  by  a  tightening  of  the  muscles  of  his 
nostrils. 

"Say,  Jan,  we're  going  to  open  with  Miss  Julie,  isn't 
it  splendid?" 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  237 

Janet  came  in  looking  unusually  beautiful.  Her  love- 
liness was  always  evanescent,  like  a  stream  of  pale 
lavender,  revealed  unexpectedly  in  a  puff  of  gray 
smoke.  Raleigh  just  behind  her  looked  exalted  and 
spiritual.  Their  love  affair  was  at  its  apex. 

Pat  Scovell  came  over  and  privately  explained  to 
Dizzy  that  he  was  going  to  put  on  a  swell  Irish  play 
while  the  girl  with  the  adenoids  proclaimed  her  inten- 
tion of  doing  Miss  Julie. 

Dizzy  looked  up  to  see  Cecil  standing  wistfully  in 
the  doorway. 

"Oh,  I  thought  you'd  gone  out,"  exclaimed  Dizzy. 
She  crossed  the  room  with  Jim  and  introduced  them. 

"Sari's  out  walking.  I  guess  she'll  be  back  pretty 
soon.  Do  you  want  to  see  the  babies?" 

They  went  upstairs.  The  baby  was  asleep,  but 
Tyn-tin,  sitting  up  in  his  little  bed,  smiled  a  sudden, 
unexpected  message  of  welcome  at  Dizzy  and  held  out 
his  arms  to  her.  An  irresistible  gesture  that  swept 
Dizzy  off  her  feet  in  a  little  gust  of  admiration  and 
love.  She  was  living  emotion  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life.  Jim  looked  on  benevolently,  approvingly.  He 
smoked  a  cigarette  with  Cecil  and  exchanged  one  or 
two  commonplace  ideas.  In  general,  he  thought  Jews 
ill-mannered  tricksters,  but  he  had  accepted  Cecil  un- 
questioningly  as  being  one  of  the  much  talked  of  "ex- 
ceptions" on  account  of  his  relationship  to  Dizzy.  He 
and  Cecil  struck  up  a  real  liking  for  each  other.  Fun- 
damentally they  were  the  same  sort,  loyal,  sincere, 
and  loving. 

Sari  came  upstairs  rushingly.  She  was  exuberant, 
eager  to  tell  Cecil  the  details  of  a  flirtatious  walk  she 
had  been  taking  with  one  of  the  more  passionless, 
esthetic  Custard  Pies.  Jim  admired  her  looks,  her 


238  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

piquancy,  her  slight  resemblance  to  Dizzy,  and  if  he 
disapproved  of  her  menage  he  did  not  show  it  in  any 
way. 

"Come  on  downstairs,  Janet  has  written  a  poem  and 
she  is  going  to  read  it  out  loud.  Her  poems  are  always 
fun,"  said  Sari,  and  precipitously  led  the  way  down- 
stairs again.  Cecil  patiently  went  back  to  Tin-tin  who 
howled  as  the  company  filed  out 


III 


Janet  had  already  taken  a  commanding  position  and 
was  about  to  begin  as  they  came  into  the  room. 

Pat  and  the  girl  with  the  adenoids  still  argued  in 
low  passionate  tones  over  the  first  play  in  which  she 
was  to  act.  Raleigh's  eyes  were  fixed  on  Janet  with 
intensity,  his  cheeks  were  red  and  his  eyes  brilliant. 

"There  were  three  Jews  who  kissed  me. 

I  love  one  of  them. 

He  was  my  big  love — as  one  speaks  of  big  loves. 

He  was  also  a  whale  of  a  Jew. 

He  introduced  me  to  the  Jews  of  his  set. 

In  the  deep  swells  of  the  red-blood  sea  of  Jewishness 

Buffeted  between  deep-bosomed  women,  and  stringy  wild-haired 

me, 

I  was  lost. 

There  were  three  Jews  who  kissed  me. 
I  loved  one  of  them." 

Jim  prepared  to  laugh  amiably  at  this,  though  he 
didn't  really  think  it  was  very  funny,  when  he  saw  that 
the  others  were  all  nodding  and  discussing  it  seriously. 
This,  then  was  literature. 

"Big  stuff,"  said  the  blond  Jewess  earnestly. 

"Say  I  like  that,  Jan,"  Raleigh  Minster  told  her. 

Janet  came  over  and  sat  down  in  a  chair  opposite 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  239 

Jim  and  Dizzy.  "I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Dizzy. 
You  haven't  been  around  for  an  age.  What  have  you 
been  doing  with  yourself."  Dizzy  answered  at  ran- 
dom, and  presented  Jim,  who  looked  so  much  like  what 
he  was  that  Janet  hardly  acknowledged  the  introduc- 
tion, and  paid  no  more  attention  to  him  in  her  conver- 
sation with  Dizzy  than  if  he  hadn't  been  present.  He 
sat  silent,  watching  Dizzy,  a  line  growing  and  deepen- 
ing between  his  brows.  He  was  trying  honestly  to 
think  it  out — think  out  what  it  was  that  Dizzy  could 
find  in  these  people.  A  kind  of  vacancy  grew  behind 
his  eyes  as  his  thoughts  bumped  up  against  first  one 
of  the  notions  by  which  he  lived  and  regulated  his 
conduct  and  then  another. 

"You  know  we've  been  living  in  just  one  room,  but 
it  was  awful,  and  so  now  we've  taken  a  place  over  on 
Dearborn,  and  I'm  going  to  get  the  meals.  You  know 
I've  given  up  school,  and  I'm  helping  Raleigh  as  much 
as  I  can.  I  go  down  to  his  office  every  day.  And  I 
feel  that  his  work  is  of  so  much  real  importance.  .  ." 

She  must  be  married  to  that  chap,  then,  thought 
Jim.  Wonder  what  business  he  is  in?  He  didn't  ap- 
prove of  women  working  in  general  but  there  were 
exceptional  cases,  and  he  liked  the  interest  she  took 
in  her  husband's  work. 

".  .  .  it  all  goes  so  slow.  But  Dizzy,  the  revolution 
is  coming."  She  leaned  forward  and  clasped  Dizzy's 
arm  enthusiastically.  Jim  wondered  what  she  meant 
by  the  revolution,  and  why  she  should  be  so  glad  about 
it.  "Raleigh  was  saying  today  that  the  workers  are 
all  coming  to  realize  that  they  never  will  get  anything 
by  the  ballot.  The  ballot!  The  ballot!  That's  all 
you  used  to  hear.  But  people  are  beginning  to  realize. 
As  if  we  never  did  anything  but  sit  around  to  wait  for 
the  next  election.  Agitate,  and  keep  on  agitating. 


240  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

That's  where  Raleigh  is  so  wonderful,  and  where  I 
have  been  able  to  help  him  a  little  bit." 

Dizzy  compressed  her  lips  and  nodded. 

"Yes,  it's  only  by  fighting  that  you  will  get  any- 
where." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Jim  broke  into  the  conver- 
sation. 

"Strike,  for  one  thing,"  said  Dizzy.  "Agitate,  fight, 
strike  until  unjust  laws  are  changed." 

"Don't  you  believe  that  any  just  cause  can  be  settled 
by  the  ballot?  Don't  you  believe  in  the  will  of  the 
people?" 

"Oh,  the  people.  They  don't  have  a  chance  in  an 
election.  Surely  you  understand  that.  How  did  the 
eight  hour  day  come  about?  Votes?  No!  The  men 
threatened  to  strike,  struck.  And  then  the  politicians 
passed  the  law." 

Jim  settled  back,  the  puzzlement  deepening  behind 
his  eyes.  He  couldn't  make  Dizzy  out. 

Surely  she  didn't  believe  in  strikes!  He  took  no 
more  part  in  the  conversation,  though  several  of 
Janet's  remarks  were  unbelievably  different  from  the 
set  of  ideas  he  had  thought  were  held  by  all  people  that 
were  not  definitely  vicious. 

When  he  told  Janet  goodby  he  addressed  her  as 
Mrs.  Minster,  as  Raleigh's  name  had  been  impressed 
on  his  mind. 

She  colored  and  corrected  him.  Dizzy  rather  halt- 
ingly explained  to  Jim  on  their  way  out  through  the 
alley  that  Janet  and  Raleigh  didn't  believe  in  mar- 
riage. This  sort  of  thing  had  a  general  head  in  Jim's 
mind.  It  came  under  the  classification  of  "Rotten- 
ness." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  241 


IV 

But  he  turned  once  again  to  the  subject  of  strikes 
as  they  walked  slowly  home. 

"What  made  you  say  all  those  things,  anyway,"  he 
began  playfully.  "Just  to  tease  me,  because  you  knew 
I  held  the  opposite  views." 

This  attitude  aroused  all  the  original  normal  Dizzy 
scorn. 

"Certainly  not.  I  was  perfectly  sincere  in  every- 
thing I  said." 

"But  all  that  rot  about  the  people  not  being  able  to 
get  what  they  want  by  voting.  Why  that's  the  prin- 
ciple our  forefathers  fought  for.  It's  what  Abraham 
Lincoln  meant  when  he  said  that  the  government  of 
the  people  by  the  people  and  for  the  people  could 
never  perish  from  the  earth." 

"Your  quotation  is  inaccurate,"  said  Dizzy.  "But 
I  know  what  you  mean.  You  mean  that  you  think 
we  are  living  under  a  democracy." 

"Why!"  Jim  was  astounded.  "A  democracy! 
Why  don't  you  believe  it?"  He  is  unusually  naive, 
even  for  a  capitalist,  Dizzy  was  thinking. 

"Of  course  not." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  think  that  the 
United  States  isn't  a  democratic  nation,  that  we  aren't 
all  born  free  and  equal." 

"Am  I  the  equal  of  Pierpont  Morgan's  daughter? 
Is  the  prostitute  whom  I  am  liable  to  be  sent  down  to 
interview  in  the  Morals  court  tomorrow  morning  the 
equal  of  the  wife  of  the  Mayor?" 

Jim  winced  at  the  word  prostitute  on  Dizzy's  lips. 
It  was  the  first  outburst  he  had  ever  heard  from  her. 


242  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Yes,  politically." 

"Then  why  are  laws  that  will  benefit  the  smalt 
oligarchy  of  capitalists  always  passed,  while  the  plain 
people  trot  around  like  trained  dogs  at  a  circus,  re- 
sponding to  the  whip  of  a  ring  master?" 

"Because  the  ordinary  people  aren't  intelligent 
enough  to  get  up  and  become  ring  masters  them- 
selves. Nothing  holds  them  back  but  their  own 
selves.  I'm  not  a  capitalist,  but  if  I'm  not  one 
some  day  it  will  be  because  I'm  not  smart  enough  to 
go  ahead.  That's  what  democracy  means.  That  I'm 
a  free  born  man,  free  to  vote,  free  to  make  my  way 
in  the  world,  free  to  get  to  the  top  if  I'm  smart 
enough." 

"Yes,  you  can  get  to  the  top  on  a  ladder  made  of 
bodies  of  the  people  who  aren't  smart  enough,"  said 
Dizzy  bitterly.  "If  the  plain  people  are  too  stupid 
to  discover  their  own  interests,  it  is  because  they  are 
deliberately  mis-instructed  by  the  capitalists;  if  they 
were  educated  and  had  an  equal  chance,  perhaps  the 
difference  wouldn't  show  so  much.  Still  I  don't  know. 
Here,  you  are,  a  slave  of  the  capitalist  system,  exult- 
ing in  your  bonds.  You  have  been  through  the  train- 
ing schools  of  the  capitalist  system,  which  have  cun- 
ningly made  you  believe  that  perhaps  you  will  be  one 
of  the  chosen  ones  to  go  up  higher.  What  is  the  actual 
percent  of  the  people  who  do  get  to  the  top?  They 
don't  all  get  there  you'll  admit.  Democracy!  Why 
don't  you  see  that  a  combat  in  the  United  States  on 
any  question  never  takes  the  people  into  consideration 
at  all.  They  are  the  goats,  the  ones  who  get  what  is 
left,  when  two  wings  of  the  capitalist  party  split." 

Jim  bent  his  head,  frowned  and  concentrated  on  the 
enigma  of  Dizzy's  point  of  view. 

"You  mean  in  an  election  or  when  some  issue  like 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  243 

the  league  of  nations  or  prohibition  is  at  stake  that 
the  people  aren't  the  real  judges?" 

"Do  you  think  they  are?" 

"Well,  I  think  their  vote  is  the  final  determining 
factor." 

Dizzy  laughed.  "They  play  exactly  the  same  part 
as  they  played  in  the  war.  They  give  themselves  un- 
sparingly to  a  struggle  that  does  not  concern  them, 
enlisted  and  deceived  by  the  actual  contestants  who 
remain  in  a  place  of  safety  and  enjoy  the  spoils." 

It  was  too  much  for  Jim.  He  seized  her  arm,  and 
said  banteringly,  "Your  little  head  is  just  full  of  ideas, 
isn't  it?  Where  do  you  get  them  all?" 

Dizzy  walked  forward  consumed  with  a  more  furi- 
ous anger  than  she  had  ever  felt  in  her  life. 

"It's  your  sort.  The  stupid,  brainless  dupes  of  the 
capitalist  system  who  really  hold  society  back  today. 
The  capitalists  themselves  could  never  do  it  if  they 
didn't  have  thousands  of  young  lieutenants  like  you, 
eager  and  hopeful  of  the  spoils." 

Jim  good-humoredly  accepted  this.  "I  believe  you're 
a  little  bit  peeved.  What's  the  difference,  anyway? 
I'm  a  dub.  I  admit  it,  but  there  are  some  things  that 
a  chap  knows.  He  just  knows  those  things.  I'm  not 
half  as  smart  as  you  are.  If  I  were,  I'd  be  a  million- 
aire. But  let's  not  let  it  make  a  difference  between  us. 
You  don't  mind  being  teased,  do  you?" 

"I  do  mind  being  patronized.  And  your  attitude  is 
very  patronizing." 

"No.  You're  mistaken.  I'd  have  a  whale  of  a 
nerve  to  try  to  patronize  you.  I  wouldn't  even  at- 
tempt it.  I'm  only  afraid  now  that  you're  angry  with 
me,  and  that  you  think  you've  made  a  huge  mistake." 

He  was  so  earnest  and  sincere  and  lovable  that 
Dizzy's  anger  melted. 


244  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

After  all  the  atmosphere  was  still  light  with  the 
radiance  of  new  love.  They  walked  on  together  enjoy- 
ing the  motion  of  their  bodies  harmoniously  moving 
arm  in  arm. 


But  the  arguments  came  up  again  and  again.  Jim 
didn't  want  Dizzy  to  go  near  the  Custard  Pie  club. 
He  had  been  greatly  shocked  at  Janet.  She  was  unfit 
to  associate  with  Dizzy.  And  it  happened  he  had 
read  a  play  they  were  opening  with.  He  became  in- 
articulate in  attempting  to  describe  it  to  Dizzy. 

"Why,  do  you  know  what  it's  about.  It's  about  a 
girl  who  is  so — well,  I  wouldn't  like  to  say  what  she  is, 
but  the  situation  is  so  rotten  that,  I  don't  know  what." 

"Oh  don't  be  silly,"  said  Dizzy.  "I've  read  'Co- 
caine.' Janet's  rehearsing  it." 

"And  you  think  it's  all  right?"  His  tone  was 
fatherly,  patronizing,  securely  righteous. 

"Now,  look  here,  that  play  may  not  be  about  the 
pleasantest  things  in  the  world — " 

"Pleasantest  in  the  world?  I  can't  believe  you've 
read  it.  Why,  in  that  play  there's  a  girl  that — "  he 
seemed  about  to  rise  to  a  great  climax,  his  face  lit  up 
with  denunciation,  but  he  fell  back  weakly  on,  "well, 
really,  I'd  be  ashamed  to  tell  you." 

This  attitude  bored  Dizzy.  "I  certainly  have  read 
the  play.  It's  about  a  prostitute  who  is  supporting  a 
dope  fiend — " 

"Yes,"  said  Jim  hastily.  "And  you  think  that's 
all  right,  do  you?" 

"Oh  all  right  or  all  wrong!  That  isn't  the  point. 
I  certainly  do  not  object  to  the  material." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  245 

VI 

And  so  they  quarreled.  But  their  worst  disagree- 
ments were  always  on  capital  and  labor. 

Jim  always  contended  that  the  people  of  real  ability 
and  value  dominated  the  country,  and  always  would. 
Dizzy  became  more  and  more  bitter,  more  and  more 
determined  to  convert  him  to  her  point  of  view,  which 
was  that  the  people  of  real  ability  were  kept  down  by 
an  imitation  aristocracy  which  had  held  dominion  ever 
since  property  had  been  the  determining  factor  of  the 
ranks  of  men. 

Neither  of  them  were  very  happy  those  days.  Jim 
could  be  seen  walking  home  from  work  at  night,  his 
hat  pushed  back  on  his  forehead,  in  his  eyes,  a  puzzled 
bewildered,  intent  look.  He  digested  none  of  Dizzy's 
ideas.  Here,  they  collided  with  a  notion  about  love, 
there  with  an  idea  about  duty,  morality,  or  patriotism. 
His  ideas  were  so  neatly  and  statistically  arranged 
that  new  ones  simply  must  be  emitted  or  else  cause 
acute  discomfort.  And  the  line  between  his  brow 
would  grow  deeper  and  deeper  as  he  thought  about 
it.  Over  and  over,  the  same  old  ground,  he  traveled 
again  and  again. 

There  was  Glosser,  a  capitalist,  and  not  such  a  bad 
fellow.  He  sprang  this  on  Dizzy  triumphantly,  one 
afternoon  as  they  walked  in  Lincoln  Park. 

"Oh  it's  not  one  individual,  or  group  of  individuals. 
Why  can't  you  understand  that  it's  the  system  that  I 
think  is  all  wrong.  The  capitalists  themselves  are  just 
as  much  victims  of  it  as  the  industrial  slaves  are. 
Don't  you  see?  Politicians,  idealists,  reformers  razzle 
and  tittilate  the  capitalists  until  they  think,  honestly 
enough,  that  they  are  the  saviors  of  society,  that  they 
govern  by  divine  right — benevolent  despots." 


246  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"But  look  here,  if  you  threw  out  all  the  property 
owners,  and  put  the  people  in  power  you'd  have  what 
you  have  in  Russia." 

"Certainly.    A  soviet,  perhaps." 

"With  a  lot  of  rotten  people  like  that  Minster  in 
control;  the  women  of  the  country  would  be  in  a  nice 
fix,  wouldn't  they?" 

"That's  nonsense.  The  notion  that  women  would 
be  treated  in  an  unfair  way  under  a  socialistic  gov- 
ernment is  propaganda,  capitalists'  propaganda,  pure 
and  simple." 

"You  believe  in  all  these  things  that  the  Bolsheviki 
are  doing,  do  you?"  He  spoke  as  if  he  were  giving 
her  one  more  chance  to  redeem  herself. 

"I  suppose  you  speak  in  that  tone  because  you  think 
I  ought  to  disapprove  of  such  things  as  children  being 
held  in  common.  I  don't.  I  think  the  notion  that 
any  ignorant  girl  just  because  she  happens  by  a  physi- 
cal accident  to  become  a  mother  is  capable  of  the 
enormous  responsibility  of  training  and  educating  a 
human  being,  is  simply  sentimental  rot.  The  great 
thing  about  the  Russian  government  today  is  that  they 
aren't  soft  over  there.  Plato  said  in  his  'Republic' 
that  the  first  act  of  a  wise  government  would  be  to 
send  out  into  the  country  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city  who  were  more  than  ten  years  old.  Children 
would  then  be  unaffected  by  the  habits,  the  mistakes 
of  their  parents." 

Jim  was  shocked  deeply.  What  she  had  said  about 
motherhood  revolted  him  essentially.  He  looked  at 
her  searchingly,  almost  heart-broken.  Her  profile, 
staring  straight  ahead,  was  so  pure,  so  fine,  so 
thoroughly  the  ideal  profile,  that  he  couldn't  believe 
it.  He  had  to  reject  everything  Dizzy  was  saying. 

"You're  just  a  child,"  he  said  tenderly.     "Just  a 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  247 

baby,  after  all.    You  don't  know.    You'll  get  over  it." 

Dizzy  turned  and  looked  at  him,  shaken  with  scorn, 
wild  with  anger.  His  immaculate  grooming  struck  her 
afresh  in  the  afternoon  sunlight.  It  was  childish  of 
her  to  care  so  much  about  his  appearance.  Yet  how 
beautiful  he  was,  so  clean,  so  young,  so  fresh,  and 
that  eastern  accent! 

She  could  have  screamed  at  the  irony  of  it.  That 
she,  Dizzy  Harris  should  have  fallen  in  love  with  an 
accent! 

"All  things  considered  it  would  be  idiotic  for  us  to 
continue,"  she  said  swiftly.  "Our  ideas  being  so  ut- 
terly opposed,  love  must  degenerate  into  a  third  rate 
farce  between  us.  I  am  afraid  we  cannot  even  remain 
friends.  Youth  must  find  friendship  in  the  cause  it 
serves!" 

She  turned  and  walked  off  swiftly. 

"Dizzy,  Dizzy!" 

She  walked  on. 


CHAPTER  IX 

I 

"Miss  ELIZABETH  HARRIS,  sign  here." 

"Here's  a  special  for  you  Dizzy." 

Dizzy  took  Jim's  letter,  glanced  at  the  envelope 
with  compressed  lips,  pain-ridden  eyes.  She  crossed 
the  room  to  the  desk,  enclosed  the  unopened  letter  in 
an  envelope  and  directed  it  to  Mr.  James  Peabody 
Howells. 

The  telephone  rang. 

"It's  Jim,"  said  Ward. 

"Say  I'm  not  in,"  said  Dizzy. 

"But  Dizzy." 

"Say  it,"  commanded  Dizzy. 

"She  isn't  in.    You'd  better  call  up  later." 

"He  wants  to  know  when  you'll  be  in." 

"Say  you  don't  know." 

"But  Dizzy " 

After  the  telephone  call  there  was  a  silence.  Ward 
looked  at  her  sister  intently.  Dizzy  pretended  to  read. 
Suddenly  Ward  saw  that  Dizzy's  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.  "Dizzy,  dear!"  Her  arms  went  around  Dizzy. 
"Tell  me  what's  wrong." 

"Ward,  Ward,  Ward!"  She  sobbed  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, left  the  room,  and  came  back  apparently  re- 
covered. .  .  . 

"I'm  going  to  New  York." 

"Oh  Dizzy.    And  what  about  Jim?" 

"It's  all  off  Ward.    I  am  going  to  forget  him.    My 

248 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  249 

book,  I'm  going  to  write  like  mad.  And  take  it  to 
New  York." 

"Oh  Dizzy.  It's  just  a  lover's  quarrel.  Make 
it  up." 

Dizzy  turned  savagely. 

"Don't  speak  to  me  of  it  again.    It's  all  over." 

Ward's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "Excuse  me,  Dizzy  I 
didn't  mean  to  intrude.  But  I  like  Jim  so  much,  and 
I  regret  so  much  my  own  rashness  at  twenty.  It's 
been  four  years  now  and  I  haven't  forgotten.  And 
Jim  is  so  perfect,  you'll  never  meet  another  man  like 
him." 

"He  is  dear,"  said  Dizzy,  "isn't  he  dear?  You  can't 
blame  me  for  caring  about  him,  can  you?  He  is 
sweet,  isn't  he?  I  mean  fine  all  through,  and  somehow 
lovable  in  spite  of.  .  .  ." 

"In  spite  of  what?" 

"Of  everything.  It's  impossible  Ward.  Wild. 
Can't  you  see?  Oh,  you  with  your  intuitions,  and  your 
fine  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things,  can't  you  see?  It's 
the  most  hilarious  joke  that  fate  could  play  on  me,  I 
think — making  me  fall  in  love  with  a  Boston  accent 
and  a  suit  of  clothes." 

"You  know  it's  not  that.  It's  Jim  you  love.  Dear, 
sweet  Jim.  I  can  just  see  his  blue  eyes  looking  after 
you,  loving  you,  admiring  you.  Dizzy,  you  don't 
realize  how  lucky  you  are.  What  you're  throwing 
away." 

"Don't  think  that.  I  realize  it  all — better  than 
you.  I  realize  that  it's  love,  young  love,  I'm  giving 
up  ...  after  a  fashion.  Don't  think  I  don't  feel  it. 
Don't  think  I'm  not  haunted  by  Jim's  presence  all  the 
time.  Don't  think — but  what's  the  use?  It  isn't 
enough  for  me.  I  must  have  a  man  that  I  can  admire 


250  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

and  respect.  I  want  my  lover  to  be  to  me  what  father 
was  to  my  childhood." 

"Like  the  prince  of  the  fairy  tale?" 

"No,  no,  no,"  said  Dizzy  violently.  "That's  the 
trouble  with  the  damn  idiot.  He's  too  much  what 
mother  would  approve.  He's  the  protagonist  of  that 
old  story.  With  nothing  more  to  recommend  him 
but  his  damn  fool  hundred  per  cent  American  smile." 

"Oh  Dizzy.  When  he's  such  a  dear.  Just  the  sort 
any  girl  could  be  proud  of!" 

"He's  moulded,  stamped  after  a  pattern.  There 
are  millions  like  him  all  over  the  country,  all  thinking 
the  same  silly  little  thoughts  that  have  been  drilled 
into  them  by  half-witted  college  professors.  I  wish  I 
had  joined  a  club  at  college  and  gone  around  more 
with  men  of  that  type.  It  might  have  rendered  me 
immune.  I  wonder.  You  see,  I've  never  dabbled  with 
thoughts  of  love,  because  I  was  too  sophisticatedly 
disdainful  of  romancing  females.  Still  I  think  not.  It 
was  Jim,  I  cared  for,  the  true  person  underneath 
everything.  You  know  Ward,  there's  something  there, 
in  Jim.  Something  underneath  his  looks  and  his 
clothes,  and  his  Boston  accent,  and  even  under  his 
stupidity — I  don't  know  what  it  is.  But  it's  what  I 
love.  It's  just  there.  I  feel  it,  and  sometimes  I've  seen 
glimpses  of  it  in  his  eyes." 

"Yes,  Dizzy — don't  be  annoyed  but  isn't  that  the 
spiritual  Jim  you  mean?  It's  apart  from  his  body  and 
apart  from  his  mind,  something  else,  something  more 
real,  only  so  intangible — " 

"No,"  said  Dizzy  veering  suddenly.  "It's  glamour, 
imagination.  I  can't  help  it,  can't  help  feeling  things 
like  that  about  Jim.  Like  the  silly  feeling  I  have  just 
now  that  I'll  never  change,  that  I  can't  change.  When 
I  know  I'll  forget  in  a  year,  in  six  months.  I  know  its 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  251 

an  immature  infatuation  based  on  the  mental  con- 
sciousness of  love.  The  fact  that  I  can't  forget  him  is 
quite  as  involuntary  as  the  fact  that  my  hand  shook 
so  that  I  could  hardly  write  his  address  clearly,  just 
now,  at  the  sight  of  his  dear  handwriting." 

Always  a  little  ridiculous  in  her  determined  reac- 
tions, Dizzy  had  overleaped  her  own  pretensions  in 
her  desire  to  flaunt  the  love  legend. 

II 

Days  later  she  came  in,  weary,  tired,  with  a  letter 
of  rejection  from  Hopkins. 

"Dizzy,  dear,  you  seem  to  be  getting  worse,  and 
worse.  I've  never  seen  you  so  consistently  sad!" 

Dizzy  sighed.  "I  have  been  so  sure  of  a  gift  for 
writing.  And  now!  Why  I  have  felt  this  to  be  the 
best  story  so  far.  A  kernel  of  harsh  realism  set  in  a 
shell  of  tenuous  sophistication — and  I  know  the  man- 
ner of  getting  the  tale  out  is  unusual." 

"It's  a  shame.  It's  just  spite!"  said  Ward  hotly 
partisan.  Dizzy  continued. 

"And  now  this!  Just  as  I  need  encouragement  as  I 
have  never  needed  it  before.  And  the  nerve  that  I 
have  always  had  is  going  with  every  ounce  of  my  in- 
dividuality!" 

"Dizzy  darling,  it's  just  nerves!  You've  been  work- 
ing yourself  to  death." 

"I  am  beside  myself  with  self  pity,  Ward.  I  know 
it.  You  ought  to  go  away  and  leave  me.  I'm  dis- 
gusting. But  I  love  to  have  you  pooh-pooh  my  fears, 
sitting  beside  me,  looking  so  lovely,  a  concrete  example 
of  the  theory  that  living  is  fine.  You  discredit  my 
horrors,  and  things,  somehow,  may  balance  up." 

"It's  Jim  that's  wearing  your  nerves  down,  so." 


252  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Life  has  simply  been  the  raw-edge  of  hysteria  to 
me  for  some  time.  I  have  been  more  keenly  unhappy 
than  I  dreamt  in  my  unhappy  childhood  even.  I  re- 
member when  things  seemed  impossible,  and  they  did 
often,  I  said  to  myself,  with  aged  philosophy,  'O  well, 
I'll  feel  all  right  tomorrow!'  And  I  did. 

"But  nowadays  I'm  not  seeing  any  tomorrows.  I 
suppose  it  is  because  the  things  I  want  are  more 
bound  up  with  the  future.  It  seems  I  can't  have  any- 
thing, and  I  have  found  more  terror  and  desolation  in 
every  day.  I  wonder  if  the  game  is  worth  the  candle. 
I  would  find  things  bearable  if  only  I  liked  myself. 
You  know  I  have,  with  a  kind  of  indulgent  and  pleased 
liking.  It's  funny,  I  think,  though,  you  may  not  un- 
derstand, but  I  liked  my  reactions  to  things!  I  used 
to  feel  very  troubled,  worried,  impatient,  about  things 
I  didn't  like.  It  was  always  a  physical  impatience.  I 
would  shrug  my  shoulder  and  throw  back  my  head  in 
annoyance.  But  it  was  always  a  hurried  annoyance. 
I  think  I  had  a  picture  of  myself  hurrying  very  fast 
with  a  big  stride,  and  being  annoyed  about  things. 
And  if  I  liked  myself  it  was  a  fleeting  liking.  But  now 
I  am  just  plain  miserable.  Something  quite  static  that 
simply  disgusts  me  when  I  see  it  in  the  glass.  And  if 
I  am  not  that,  I  look  sleek,  and  poised  in  a  hard  way 
to  myself." 

"Dizzy  dear,  I  know!" 

"Way  down  in  my  heart  I  must  have  thought  all  the 
time  that  I  was  a  chosen  one  because  I  can't  bear  not 
being  able  to  go  on  with  things  as  I  wanted." 

She  sat  analyzing  her  suffering  with  a  thin  pretense 
of  sophistication.  When  the  keen  disappointment  of 
the  rejection  from  Hopkins  had  passed,  she  resigned 
from  her  job  and  plunged  her  energy  into  the  novel  she 
had  always  meant  to  write. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  253 


III 


A  certain  Mrs.  Marchrose,  whom  Oz  had  been  tak- 
ing about  for  a  period  of  about  three  years,  began  to 
make  life  unpleasant  for  him.  She  had  originally  been 
a  member  of  the  set  in  which  Oz  grew  up,  but  had 
made  a  very  imprudent  marriage  at  an  early  age,  and 
had  separated  from  her  husband  about  ten  years  later, 
after  an  unhappy  time.  Since,  Oz  had  been  support- 
ing her.  Most  people  suspected  it,  but  she  had  never 
been  openly  snubbed.  She  was  sensitive  enough  to 
feel  a  vague  kind  of  gossip  about  her  wherever  she 
went. 

Recently  she  had  been  granted  a  divorce  from  her 
husband,  and  she  now  wanted  Oz  to  marry  her.  Oz, 
who  had  been  comfortable  in  the  relationship  that  had 
subsisted  between  them  for  three  years,  had  no  desire 
to  make  her  his  wife.  If  he  were  to  consent  to  any 
such  an  upheaval  in  his  well-lined  bachelor  existence 
he  would  want  to  do  something  brilliant,  like  taking  a 
young,  beautiful  and  fascinating  girl  like  Ward,  or  a 
woman  with  a  fortune.  The  social  aspect  of  his  mar- 
riage would  influence  him. 

So  he  evaded  Mrs.  Marchrose,  evaded  her  charm- 
ingly, and  with  an  air  almost  of  pursuit.  She  didn't 
realize  how  insecure  her  position  was,  and  so  she 
turned  him  out.  It  was  to  be  a  lesson,  and  to  bring 
him  to  his  senses.  He  accepted  her  ultimatum  grace- 
fully, and  withdrew  finally.  And  then  because  she  was 
consumed  with  wrath  and  wanted  to  make  him  suffer, 
and  also  because  she  thought  it  would  steady  her  so- 
cial equilibrium,  she  married  another  man,  a  very 
wealthy  man  who  had  always  wanted  her. 

So  Oz  was  free,  as  free  as  Ward  had  always  fancied 


254  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

him  to  be.  Free  to  hang  by  slender  golden  threads  to 
her  chariot  of  romance.  He  proposed  to  her  beauti- 
fully, bought  her  a  gorgeous  ring,  and  she  reached  her 
zenith  of  happiness. 


BOOK  FOUR 
WARD 


CHAPTER  I 


LITTLE  tables  nestled  in  snug  booths  lighted  by 
small  shaded  lights.  In  the  center  of  the  dance  floor 
the  fountain  was  illuminated  by  dull  blue  globes  that 
threw  shadows  on  the  figures  swaying  in  the  dim  light 
to  the  languorous,  passion  stirring  strains  of  the  best 
jazz  orchestra  on  the  south  side. 

Oz  was  taking  Ward  there  to  dance  for  the  first 
time;  Ward  with  her  happy  excited  face  and  the  new 
ring  on  the  third  finger  of  her  left  hand.  With  them 
was  his  nephew,  young  John  Greenleaf  Jupp,  and  a 
girl  with  whom  he  was  evidently  infatuated  named 
Miss  Fluke.  He  had  explained  hurriedly  to  the 
slightly  vexed  Oz  that  she  respectably  worked  in  a 
State  street  store. 

Miss  Fluke  was  tiny  without  being  dainty.  Well 
manicured  coarse  hands,  a  large  pored  skin,  hempy 
locks  that  had  been  ironed  into  frizzes,  teeth  protrud- 
ing through  thick  red  lips,  Miss  Fluke  had  eyes  that 
held  a  sex  challenge  for  every  man,  and  she  turned  on 
her  conversation  as  one  turns  water  out  of  a  tap. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Chester.  How's  Mr.  Osbert  Chester  this 
evening?  Does  your  mother  know  you're  out  Mr. 
Chester?  Don't  you  dare  to  try  to  kiss  me  Mr.  Ches- 
ter. Good  evening  Mr.  Jupp.  Watch  out  Mr.  Jupp 
or  I'll  flirt  with  you  Mr.  Jupp,  and  then  what  will  you 
do,  Mr.  John  Greenleaf  Jupp?" 

But  Miss  Fluke  favored  Oz  with  oblique  glances 
even  when  she  was  in  the  midst  of  turning  her  shower 

257 


258  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

of  phrases  on  the  unimportant  nephew.  These  side- 
long looks  were  returned  with  much  interest  though 
Oz  kept  a  wary  eye  on  Ward. 

But  tonight  Ward  was  quite  blind.  She  sat  there 
almost  silent,  happy  to  be  with  him,  enjoying  the  sub- 
dued lights,  the  music,  the  joyousness  of  the  crowd. 
Happy  because  they  were  engaged  at  last  and  now  no 
one  could  ever  take  him  away  from  her,  and  proud 
but  a  little  contemptuous  that  Miss  Fluke  could  not 
control  her  admiration  for  him. 

This  place  where  Oz  had  brought  Ward  was  one  of 
those  curious  resorts  where  almost  every  group  be- 
comes exhilarated  after  absorbing  a  number  of  the 
soft  drinks  offered  by  the  management. 

On  a  little  platform  a  few  feet  away  sat  a  well  fed 
man  who  was  perhaps  fifty.  Exuberance  was  showing 
in  him  to  a  point  never  before  observed  in  a  man  who 
has  been  imbibing  lemon  phosphates  exclusively.  The 
man  experienced  difficulty  in  remaining  seated  between 
dances,  and  was  continually  falling  off  of  his  chair,  a 
performance  that  he  explained  largely  to  the  people  in 
the  cafe  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  was  not  used  to 
sitting  on  a  platform. 

The  music  blared.  It  was  Ward's  turn  to  dance 
with  Mr.  John  Greenleaf  Jupp.  Willowy  and  clammy, 
Mr.  Jupp  wore  his  blonde  oily  hair  long,  and  it 
brushed  Ward's  cheek  as  he  leaned  over  her,  holding 
her  close  in  the  dance  and  staring  deeply  into  her  eyes, 
whenever  she  looked  at  him.  She  was  uncomfortable, 
and  failed  to  notice  that  Oz  held  his  twittering  partner 
tight  against  him.  When  the  dance  was  over  Miss 
Fluke  drew  herself  closer  in  his  arms  and  gazed  into 
his  eyes  with  the  look  of  a  woman  in  the  grip  of  pas- 
sion before  they  rejoined  Ward  and  Mr.  Jupp. 

"Here  we  are  again,  Mr.  Chester,"  she  said  as  they 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  259 

sat  down.  "How  is  Mr.  Chester  this  evening?  You're 
a  handsome  thing,  Mr.  Chester,  but  I  suspect  that  you 
are  rather  a  naughty  thing,  Mr.  Chester.  .You  can't 
deny  it,  Mr.  Chester.  You're  rather  naughty.  You 
know  you  are." 

The  boy  took  some  dice  out  of  his  pocket  and  began 
to  shake  them  idly  on  the  table. 

"Oh  the  darling  little  dice,  Mr.  Jupp.  Oh  the  cun- 
ning little  dice.  Oh  the  naughty  Johnny  Jupp  with 
the  adorable  little  dice.  Oh  we'll  have  to  look  out  for 
him.  We'll  have  to  look  out  for  Mr.  John  Greenleaf 
Jupp." 

A  die  dropped  on  the  floor.  Stooping  to  search  for 
it,  Oz  rested  one  hand  on  Miss  Fluke's  knee.  But 
the  die  was  not  to  be  found.  Ward  looked,  Miss  Fluke 
looked,  even  Mr.  John  Greenleaf  Jupp  languidly  as- 
sisted, but  it  seemed  to  be  gone. 

The  gentleman  at  the  next  table  who  had  been  hav- 
ing so  much  trouble  in  remaining  seated  volunteered 
his  aid  in  the  search  for  the  die.  They  moved  the 
tables  out.  The  muddled  gentleman  became  earnest 
in  his  efforts  to  recover  the  lost  die.  Oz  hustled  Ward 
off  to  dance  with  Mr.  Jupp  while  they  hunted. 

The  inebriated  man  found  the  die. 

"Le's  shake,"  he  offered. 

When  Ward  returned  there  was  a  bill  on  the  table. 
Oz  lost.  Another  dollar  went  into  the  pot.  The  man 
shook.  He  turned  up  seven.  Another  dollar  went  in. 
Oz  shook  and  won.  His  dollar  disappeared.  The 
man  won.  Another  dollar  disappeared.  Ten  dollars 
in  the  pot  again.  A  crowd  gathered  around  the  table. 
Some  one  said  they  might  be  put  out  for  gambling. 
Oz  lost,  the  man  lost.  Oz  won,  the  man  won.  Always 
the  ten-spot  remained  in  the  center.  ? 


260  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

- 

Ward  prayed  to  have  the  game  stopped.  "Dear 
God,  make  Oz  win,"  was  her  direct  appeal.  There 
were  fifteen  dollars  in  the  pot.  Her  wish  was  granted. 
Oz  pocketed  the  money. 

The  man  ordered  drinks  for  the  crowd.  He  was 
Solomon  Goldberg,  proprietor  of  the  "Gold  Garden," 
one  of  the  newest  and  most  expensive  hotels  in  the 
city,  overlooking  the  lake. 

Miss  Fluke  gave  him  a  profound  glance.  His 
oriental  eyes  flashed  back  at  her  out  of  his  shiny, 
brown,  fat  face.  "You're  the  little  girl  for  me,"  he 
said,  and  when  the  music  started  again,  she  danced 
off  with  him.  In  the  middle  of  the  floor  he  sat  down 
and  proclaimed  that  he  was  only  a  paper  doll. 

"I'm  giving  you  a  song  with  gestures,"  he  said,  as 
Miss  Fluke  assisted  him  to  his  feet.  "And  here's  the 
very  best  little  paper  doll  baby  in  the  flock."  He 
swooped  Miss  Fluke  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 
They  walked  back  to  the  tables  and  sat  down.  Gold- 
berg deserted  the  man  and  girl  at  his  table  and  planted 
himself  down  beside  Miss  Fluke. 

"Le's  shake  again,"  he  suggested  to  Oz.  But  Ward 
interposed.  "No,  no,  it's  time  for  us  to  go  home.  It's 
getting  awfully  late,  and  we  all  have  to  go  now." 

"Le's  shake  just  once,"  pleaded  Goldberg,  "and  if 
you're  man  wins  he  can  roll  you  home  in  a  taxi." 

"Yes,  and  if  I  lose,  she  can  walk,  I  suppose,"  said 
Oz  sarcastically.  "It's  only  about  eight  miles." 

"Aw,  you  gotta  shake,  just  once,"  begged  Goldberg. 

They  shook. 

Oz  again  won. 

Goldberg  took  Miss  Fluke  home,  Johnnie  Jupp  went 
off  by  himself,  thinking  of  various  dismal  forms  of  sui- 
cide. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  261 


II 

In  the  taxi  Oz  took  Ward  in  his  arms  and  kissed 
her  again,  and  again.  He  wanted  her  soon,  soon,  soon, 
he  said.  He  couldn't  wait  much  longer. 

"Mother  thinks  I  ought  to  come  to  California  to 
marry.  She's  taken  a  darling  house,  she  says.  It 
would  be  wonderful  for  a  small  wedding." 

"All  that  long  trip!  My  God,  why  not  go  down 
town  in  a  few  days  and  get  a  license  and  have  it  over 
without  fuss.  Then  go  to  California  on  our  wedding 
trip?" 

Ward  almost  promised.  But  a  trifling  thing  upset 
her.  After  he  left  her  that  night  she  sat  up  until  four, 
painstakingly  copying  a  long  poem  which  appealed  to 
her.  She  mailed  it,  and  when  she  saw  him  the  next 
day  she  found  he  had  not  read  it.  And  as  she  was 
brooding  over  the  inexplicable  lack  of  love  shown  in 
this,  there  came,  of  all  things,  a  letter  from  Rod. 

It  was  a  long,  hesitating,  explaining  love  letter.  He 
had  never  forgotten  her,  never  ceased  to  think  of  her. 
For  four  years  she  had  been  alive  in  his  dreams.  He 
had  been  called  away  by  a  telegram  saying  his  father 
was  dying,  and  had  found  that  his  place  at  home  would 
not  admit  a  wife  at  present.  The  necessity  of  taking 
over  his  father's  affairs,  which  were  in  bad  shape  so 
that  his  younger  sisters  might  have  money  for  school, 
and  college,  had  immediately  confronted  him. 

During  the  first  bitter  year  he  had  not  written  be- 
cause he  had  persuaded  himself  that  Ward  did  not 
care.  Why  had  she  called  up  Bill  Wicker,  when  their 
engagement  was  so  very  new.  With  the  passing  of 
months  he  had  come  to  believe  that  there  was  some 
explanation.  He  was  not  asking  for  it.  He  was  hum- 


262  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

bly,  apologetically  asking  her  to  overlook  the  way  he 
had  left.  It  seemed  to  him  very  nearly  inexcusable. 

Now,  he  went  on  to  say,  things  were  clearing  up 
financially.  All  the  debts  were  paid  off.  The  busi- 
ness was  good,  and  he  was  ready  to  marry.  He  ended 
by  begging  to  be  allowed  to  come  to  Chicago  to 
see  her. 

The  beauty  of  it.  The  sheer  wonder  of  his  loving 
her  like  that  for  four  years  without  a  sign.  The  mys- 
tic bond  had  been  between  them  all  the  time.  He  was 
suddenly  there  in  the  room  with  her,  young,  ardent, 
dominating,  arresting.  Oz  looked  shrunken  beside 
him,  old,  a  caricature  of  the  boy  he  wanted  to  appear. 

That  night  in  a  fit  of  temper  she  gave  Oz  back  his 
ring  and  told  him  about  Rod.  They  quarreled  hotly, 
and  melted  into  each  other's  arms  at  the  end. 

In  retrospect  the  whole  affair  annoyed  Oz.  He 
hated  being  moved  emotionally.  He  wanted  to  settle 
down  to  a  comfortable  married  life,  or  else  be  allowed 
to  go  back  to  the  unbound  existence  he  had  led  before 
he  met  Ward. 


in 


One  day  Oz,  passing  through  the  store  where  Miss 
Fluke  worked,  stopped  to  talk  to  her.  She  was  look- 
ing more  prosperous  in  some  mysterious  way.  He 
couldn't  tell  just  how.  Perhaps  she  was  being  better 
fed.  She  clung  to  him  with  her  eyes  as  a  .wet  cat 
dings  to  a  post  in  the  lake. 

"Will  you  lunch  with  me,"  he  asked  her. 

"Oh  the  dreadful  Mr.  Osbert  Chester.  The  naughty 
Mr.  Osbert  Chester  with  the  pretty  little  girl  who  loves 
him  so,"  twittered  Miss  Fluke,  her  normally  raw  com- 
plexion becoming  like  a  piece  of  uncooked  steak  in 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  263 

her  delight  at  seeing  him.  "How  is  the  dear  little 
thing?  I  thought  she  was  just  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing girls  I  had  ever  met." 

Oz  leaned  over  the  counter.  "Will  you  have  lunch- 
eon with  me?" 

Miss  Fluke  accepted  Oz. 

She  was  flattering  and  satisfying  to  his  vanity  after 
Ward's  exactions.  He  wasn't  sure  that  he  cared  to 
have  anyone  make  as  many  demands  on  him  as  Ward 
had  been  making. 

When  he  helped  Miss  Fluke  on  with  her  coat  he 
noticed  that  it  was  exquisite  in  texture  and  lined  with 
the  softest  silk.  He  held  it  in  his  hands  for  a  few 
moments  while  she  stood  looking  up  at  him  over  her 
shoulder. 

"Hurry  up,"  he  chided  her.  "I'm  not  getting  any 
pleasure  out  of  standing  here  holding  this  coat." 

She  flung  him  a  saucy  glance  that  subtly  imparted  a 
tinge  of  repartee  to  their  banalities.  "Well,  I  assure 
you  that  I'm  not  getting  any  pleasure  out  of  it,"  she 
responded. 

"Won't  you  come  and  see  poor  lonely  little  me, 
sometime?"  Miss  Fluke  asked  as  they  were  parting. 
Oz  thought  he  might.  She  was  staying  at  the  Gold 
Garden. 

He  did  call  on  her,  after  Ward  had  been  particularly 
unreasonable. 

Miss  Fluke  was  sincerely  attracted  to  him,  though 
by  no  means  blind  to  his  money.  She  had  a  small  but 
luxurious  apartment,  and  a  store  of  excellent  liquor. 

And  so,  Oz  contracted  another  intimacy  which  be- 
gan to  run  neck  and  neck  with  Ward's  great  romance. 


CHAPTER  II 


WARD  met  Oz  for  luncheon  at  the  Congress  Hotel. 
Afterward  he  had  an  engagement  with  a  business  ac- 
quaintance— a  man  named  Piper,  whom  he  brought 
up  and  introduced. 

Piper  was  small,  nervous,  enthusiastic.  He  varied 
in  temperament,  but  not  in  type  from  Oz,  Mortimer 
Glosser,  Jim  Howells,  all  the  business  men  Ward  had 
been  meeting.  He  did  not  have  much  to  say  to  Ward, 
but  addressed  himself  to  Oz  almost  exclusively. 

"Come  on  out  to  the  apartment  and  get  a  drink, 
Oz,"  he  urged.  "Come  on,  both  of  you.  We  can  talk 
matters  over,  and  I  have  a  collection  of  camera  studies 
you  must  see." 

"All  right,"  said  Oz.  "Fine!  Come  on  Ward,  you 
have  nothing  to  do." 

S  Ward  assented  with  her  usual  docility.  They 
climbed  into  Piper's  roadster  and  started  south.  The 
two  men  talked  business.  The  sky  hung  like  a  grimy 
wet  sheet  between  the  buildings,  dripping  incessantly 
upon  the  scrambling  populace.  She  sighed  and  whim- 
sically fancied  herself  Oz's  neglected  wife.  The  men 
talked  on  and  on,  ignoring  her. 

They  left  the  car  in  front  of  some  bachelor  apart- 
ments of  red  brick. 

264 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  265 


"My  girl  must  have  left  some  of  her  clothes  here." 
Piper  picked  up  a  white  silk  undervest  and  a  pink 
satin  garter,  as  he  led  Oz  and  Ward  through  his  apart- 
ment on  the  way  to  the  bar  he  had  in  his  kitchen. 
"Maybe  she's  still  here."  He  pushed  the  door  into 
his  camera  studio  open.  "Well,  here's  the  little 
sweetie  in  here.  Get  fixed  up  pretty,  dear.  I  want 
Chester  to  see  that  I've  got  the  nicest  girl  in  town. 
And  he's  got  some  Jane  with  him  himself.  Hurry  up, 
and  I'll  mix  you  a  drink  while  you're  powdering  your 
nose." 

A  girl,  small,  blonde,  delicate,  came  out  of  the 
studio. 

"I  want  you  folks  to  meet  my  little  Clarice,  the  best 
little  scout  and  pal  that  a  man  ever  had.  This  is  Mr. 
Chester.  I  brought  him  out  to  the  flat  for  a  good 
time,  and  incidentally  to  do  a  little  business.  And  this 
is — Miss  Fluke,  isn't  it?" 

"Miss  Harris,"  murmured  Ward,  inclining  her  head. 
She  had  heard  the  name  Fluke  indistinctly  and  at- 
tached no  importance  to  it. 

It  was  evident  that  Piper  was  anxious  to  please  Oz. 
He  began  mixing  drinks.  His  collection  of  camera 
studies — mostly  beautiful  nudes  of  the  girl  Clarice, 
were  proudly  shown.  They  were  having  their  third 
drink  when  the  telephone  rang. 

Piper  answered.  As  the  three  sat  conversing  and 
drinking,  fragments  of  conversation  floated  in  to  them. 
"All  right,  Thursday."  He  laughed.  "Oh  no,  there's 
no  danger  of  that." 

Clarice's  face  coloured  with  passion.    "No  danger," 


266  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

she  said  when  he  came  from  the  phone.  "No.  There's 
no  danger  of  my  being  here." 

Her  angry  tone  roused  an  ugly  mood  in  Piper. 

"What  do  you  think  of  her,  Chester?"  he  said. 
"Your  little  pal  wouldn't  go  back  on  you  like  this 
would  she?  She  doesn't  get  sore  every  time  you  plan 
a  little  sport,  does  she?  The  other  night  we  were  sit- 
ting here,  right  on  that  davenport,  the  two  of  us.  She 
was  being  nice  to  me,  and  we  were  having  a  good  time. 
'Want  you  to  go  out  with  other  girls  all  you  want  to/ 
she  said  to  me,  just  as  sweet  as  could  be,  but  whenever 
I  try  to  do  that  little  thing,  she  raises  the  devil." 

The  girl's  pale  face  had  flusned  as  she  listened  to 
him. 

She  turned  to  Ward  and  Oz.  "Now  listen  to  my 
side  of  it.  When  I  want  to  go  out  with  another  man, 
I  can't.  That's  the  end  of  it.  He  won't  let  me.  But 
when  he  wants  to  bring  a  girl  up  here,  I  have  to  get 
out.  Where  can  I  go?  I  have  no  place  to  go,  and 
nothing  to  do." 

"Plenty  of  places  you  can  go,"  sneered  Piper.  "Do 
you  want  to  go  back  where  I  found  you?" 

The  remark  seemed  to  shoot  into  the  girl's  heart. 
She  subsided  at  once.  Her  manner  become  conciliat- 
ing and  humble.  Suddenly  she  began  to  cry  and 
rushed  from  the  room.  Piper  turned  to  his  guests  and 
said  ill-naturedly: 

"I  took  her  out  of  that  life,  and  this  is  the  way  she 
repays  me.  Hell.  I  like  the  kid.  Damn  it,  I'm  good 
to  her.  She'd  have  been  dead  by  this  time  if  I  hadn't 
got  her.  Every  time  I  want  to  have  a  little  fun  she 
gets  sore.  I  give  her  everything  she  wants." 

"Except  love,"  said  Ward,  who  had  not  been  un- 
moved. 

"I  don't  want  her  to  love  me,"  said  Piper  furiously. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  267 

"I  might  as  well  be  married  to  her.  I  want  her  to  let 
me  alone.  I  want  her  to  be  loving  when  I  want  her, 
and  to  get  out  when  I  don't.  Damned  if  she  can  sulk 
in  there.  She's  got  to  come  out  and  make  herself 
agreeable.  That's  what  I  keep  her  for." 

Ill 

They  left  a  few  minutes  later.  Oz  called  a  taxi  and 
they  rode  home  in  silence.  Ward  seething  inwardly 
was  outwardly  cold  with  him  for  taking  her  into  a 
situation  like  that.  What  sort  of  a  girl  did  he  take 
her  for,  she  asked  herself  dramaturgically,  and  en- 
larged on  this  theme  in  furious  silent  paragraphs  as 
they  rode  homeward.  Oz,  in  a  corner,  said  nothing 
and  seemed  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts. 

At  her  hotel  he  endeavored  to  bid  her  a  polite  adieu, 
but  her  emotions  were  demanding  some  sort  of  an  out- 
let. He  was  afraid  to  walk  off  as  he  wanted  to,  and 
so  followed  her  up  to  the  apartment  with  a  very  much 
assumed  air  of  nonchalance. 

"What  I  am  interested  in,"  he  said  pulling  off  his 
cream-colored  buckskin  gloves  with  a  leisurely  social, 
bantering  air,  "is  this  small  town  guy  of  yours?  When 
is  he  coming  and  why  is  he  coming  and  who  the  devil 
is  he?" 

"Oh  he's  just  the  man  I'll  probably  marry,"  said 
Ward,  with  ill-suppressed  venom  behind  her  tones. 

"Well,"  said  Oz,  laying  his  stick  across  the  table 
carefully,  and  feeling  for  a  cigarette,  "in  that  case 
you'd  probably  better  turn  him  over  to  me.  I'll  edu- 
cate him  for  you.  He  can  stay  in  my  apartment  while 
he's  here  in  town,  and  I'll  see  that  no  harm  befalls 
him.  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  will  take  a  passionate, 
fatherly  interest  in  him." 


268  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

Ward  had  not  removed  her  wraps.  She  had  taken  a 
straight  chair.  She  leaned  forward  with  an  uncon- 
trolled awkward  movement.  In  her  face  anger  had 
given  place  to  a  sweetness  of  expression  which  did  not 
conceal  the  grief  she  felt  at  Oz's  flippancy. 

"He  isn't  so  desperately  young  as  all  that." 

"I  suppose  not,  I  suppose  not."  Oz  waved  his  hand 
lightly.  "It's  not  the  years  that  count.  It's  the  ex- 
perience. I  live  in  the  city.  He  lives  in  the  country. 

"I'm  sure  I  could  give  him  some  very  good  pointers. 
I  could  see  that  he  keeps  to  the  street  car  lines  in  his 
wanderings  for  instance.  We  certainly  wouldn't  want 
to  lose  our  little  village  wild  flower." 

Ward  was  gaining  control  of  herself.  "You  don't 
take  my  affairs  seriously  at  all." 

"Oh,  but  I  do!  I  dol  You  are  mistaken,  my  dear, 
I  do!  Here  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  show  your 
young  friend  the  town.  In  fact,  I'll  even  go  along  on 
the  wedding  tour.  I'll  lend  you  my  car  and  we  can 
run  down  to  New  Orleans  or  some  place.  I  can  at 
least  show  you  where  the  good  places  to  eat  are  along 
the  way." 

"You  are  ridiculous,"  said  Ward,  without  humor. 
"He  knows  the  country  as  well  as  you  do,  probably. 
He  took  a  walking  trip  once  from  Chicago  to  Nash- 
ville." 

"There  you  are!  That's  why  I  ought  to  go  along. 
I  wouldn't  make  you  walk.  I've  got  a  regular  kind  of 
a  trip  planned  for  you — a  motor  trip.  But  I  wouldn't 
consider  it  safe  for  you  to  go  alone  with  that  boy. 
Running  around  the  country  with  a  child  like  that  al- 
most anything  might  happen  to  you — " 

"How  awful  you  are!"  said  Ward.  He  was  forcing 
her  against  her  will  into  an  interest  in  the  subject  he 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  269 

had  selected.  "I  shouldn't  let  you  talk  to  me  about 
him  in  this  way." 

"Oh  you  don't  care  about  him,  you  know  you  don't 
care  about  him?" 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  care  about  him?" 

Oz  rose  and  took  up  his  stick.  "Really,  that's  your 
own  affair,"  he  said.  He  had  successfully  diverted 
her  mind  from  the  incident  in  Piper's  room.  Wisdom 
told  him  he  had  better  go. 

"You  are  the  most  self-absorbed  person  I've  ever 
seen!" 

"Really,  Ward,  you  are  hard  on  me.  You  turn  me 
down,  and  engage  yourself  to  another  man,  and  then 
upbraid  me  because  I  am  not  joyful  about  it." 

"You  are  joyful!" 

"No,  I'm  not!"  He  laid  down  his  stick  and  bent 
over  her  chair. 

She  didn't  look  up.  "Oh,  go!  I  know  you  want  to 
go.  Why  don't  you  go?" 

She  longed  to  have  him  take  her  in  his  arms  and 
soothe  her  and  comfort  her.  She  could  not  control 
her  feelings.  She  knew  that  her  exactions  bored  him. 
But  she  told  herself  that  all  she  wanted  was  just  a 
little  sign  of  real  love  from  him. 

He  sighed  and  straightened  up. 

"Well,  fair  lady,  just  as  you  command.  I  shall  be 
most  sorry  to  leave  you — " 

He  put  on  his  hat  and  made  his  escape.  When  he 
was  gone,  Ward,  like  a  girl  in  a  movie,  rose  and  fol- 
lowed him  with  arms  outstretched  to  the  door.  She 
fell  sobbing  against  the  wall. 

"You  can  have  your  old  'my  dear,'  "  sobbed  Ward. 
"If  that's  all  you  care  for  me.  I  don't  want  it."  She 
laughed  hysterically  at  herself,  dried  her  eyes  and 
turned  to  the  mirror  opposite  the  door.  "Oh  Oz,  you 


270  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

have  to  care  for  me.  You  must.  You  do.  You  sim- 
ply have  to  love  me!" 

She  went  slowly  back  into  the  living  room  and  threw 
herself  down  on  the  couch.  Her  brain  went  over  and 
over  the  afternoon.  Why  had  everything  gone  so 
wrong?  What  was  the  matter  with  her?  What  did 
she  want  anyway?  She  had  thought  she  wanted  Rod 
for  so  long,  and  now  he  was  coming.  Why  did  she 
flay  herself  about  Oz?  Why  did  she  allow  him  to 
make  so  much  difference  to  her.  Why  couldn't  she 
be  satisfied  with  his  friendship.  It  was  what  she 
wanted,  she  had  said.  Did  she  want  Oz's  love,  now 
that  it  was  too  late?  She  fell  to  sobbing.  She  didn't 
know  what  she  wanted.  She  wanted  Rod's  young, 
boyish  ardent  affection.  She  couldn't  bear  this  cold- 
ness, this  matter-of-factness,  this  middle-agedness  in 
Oz.  He  had  no  zest  for  life  and  for  the  little  things  of 
love  that  meant  so  much  to  her  as  Rod  had.  But  his 
personality,  his  head,  his  shoulders,  the  picture  of  him 
stamped  on  her  brain  was  so  much  nearer  and  dearer. 
She  couldn't  give  him  up,  even  for  Rod — Rod,  the  per- 
fect, the  ideal.  She  tried  to  conjure  up  a  picture  of 
Rod  and  failed.  She  couldn't  bring  an  exact  image 
of  him  into  her  consciousness.  Oz's  image  was  there, 
which  ever  way  she  turned.  But  surely  it  was  meant 
that  she  should  marry  Rod.  Four  whole  years  with- 
out a  sign  and  both  of  them  had  gone  on  caring. 

Surely  there  was  something  fore-ordained,  eternal, 
about  a  love  like  that.  If  Rod  would  only  come  so 
that  she  could  forget  this  turmoil,  this  unrest,  this  con- 
stant unhappiness  over  Oz.  To  be  rid  of  Oz,  to  no 
longer  care  what  he  said  or  did.  To  regard  him  with 
indifference  when  he  seemed  cold  and  far-off  from  her. 
She  sobbed  again  at  the  picture  of  him  as  he  had  sat, 
smoking  and  telling  her  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  271 

her  marry  Rod.  He  was  absolutely  indifferent,  then? 
Oh  no,  she  could  not  believe  it.  Perhaps  he,  too,  was 
feeling  as  badly  as  she.  She  almost  smiled  at  the  pic- 
ture of  Oz,  sobbing  among  pillows.  No,  it  wasn't  in 
Oz  to  care  like  that.  And  that  was  why  she  wanted 
Rod.  He  would  care.  He  had  proved  that  he  could 
care.  Her  wants  would  be  his  wants.  He  would  love 
her  and  cherish  her,  and  their  whole  romance  would 
be  beautiful,  imperishable.  A  romance  that  she  could 
never  have  with  Oz.  Oz  would  forget  things.  He  was 
too  self-absorbed.  Comfort  meant  more  to  him  than 
love.  Ah,  if  Rod  would  only  come.  And  then  she 
would  forget  Oz,  forever.  How  wonderful  it  would  be 
never  to  think  of  him  again.  Never  to  want  him  again. 
What  rest,  what  perfect  rest!  Suddenly  she  found 
herself  sitting  up  with  clenched  hands,  her  brain 
whirling  with  anger  and  passion.  Oz  shouldn't  escape 
her.  He  shouldn't  be  allowed  to  pursue  his  gay,  happy, 
care-free  way  while  she  sobbed  and  wanted  him,  and 
was  unable  to  think  of  anything  else.  Desperation 
seemed  to  be  closing  in  on  her.  She  must  do  some- 
thing, do  something.  Oh,  something  wonderful  and 
big  and  arresting  that  would  make  Oz  come  to  her  like 
steel  to  a  magnet.  So  that  she  would  have  him  al- 
ways, every  thought,  every  breath. 

The  telephone  rang.  It  must  be  Oz,  calling  to  beg 
forgiveness. 

"Hello." 

"Hello— Ward?"  It  was  Oz.  Her  heart  leaped. 
Then  she  answered  coldly. 

"Yes." 

"I  have  your  purse,  and  I  was  afraid  you  might  be 
worried  about  it,  so  I  called  you  up  to  let  you  know." 
Her  heart  dragged  itself  down  heavily. 

"It  was  kind  of  you  I'm  sure." 


272  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"It  was  careless  of  me  to  walk  off  with  it  in  my 
pocket;  I  can't  imagine  what  made  me  do  it.  I  will 
see  that  you  get  it  immediately." 

"Thank  you  very  much,  but  I  wouldn't  dream  of 
troubling  you,  Oz." 

"No  trouble  at  all.  I'll  mail  it  to  you.  You  will 
get  it  in  a  few  days!" 

Oh!  She  nearly  screamed  with  pain.  A  few  days! 
She  had  to  see  him  at  once.  There  were  tears  in  her 
eyes  but  her  voice  was  calm  as  she  played  up  to  Oz. 
"Oh  no,  don't  mail  it.  I'm  superstitious  about  the 
mails  and  I  know  I'll  never  get  it." 

"There  isn't  the  slightest  danger  of  its  being  lost. 
I  will  have  it  insured." 

"I  don't  care.  I  won't  have  it  mailed.  I'll  tell  you 
what  you  can  do.  You  can  take  it  down  to  one  of  the 
department  stores  and  check  it,  and  then  mail  me  the 
check." 

"Yes,  or  I  might  take  it  down  and  hock  it  and  send 
you  the  pawn  ticket." 

"Don't  be  silly!" 

"Look  here,  Ward,  I'm  not  half  as  silly  as  you  are. 
If  you  can't  bear  the  sight  of  me,  I'll  drive  down  and 
leave  it  at  the  desk  in  the  hotel  and  the  clerk  can  give 
it  to  you." 

"I  didn't  say  I  couldn't  bear  the  sight  of  you.  I 
only  don't  want  you  to  trouble  yourself." 

"Well,  you  know  it's  no  trouble  to  me.  I'd  love  to 
bring  it  out." 

"I'd  love  to  see  you." 

"Then  have  dinner  with  me." 

"Do  you  want  me  to?" 

"Of  course." 

"All  right.    I'd  love  to." 

She  turned  away  from  the  phone  joyous.    At  dinner 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  273 

she  radiated  tenderness  on  Oz;  her  beauty  had  never 
shone  more  brightly.  Oz  was  very  proud  to  be  her 
companion.  There  was  no  other  girl  quite  like  Ward. 
He  kissed  her  good  night  when  they  parted.  She 
clung  to  him  with  the  happiness  of  the  earth  after  a 
spring  rain.  Nothing  was  said  about  Rod,  or  Ward's 
engagement  to  either  Rod  or  Oz. 


CHAPTER  III 


THIS  was  the  kind  of  thing  that  was  always  going 
on  between  Ward  and  Oz.  It  wearied  him  a  trifle,  but 
Ward's  happy  moments  made  up  for  it  to  some  extent. 
If  only  she  would  go  on  being  a  butterfly,  being  happy 
and  beautiful,  and  not  demanding  impossible  things. 

But  the  spiritual  prop  of  Ward's  whole  life  had  been 
the  sentimental  idea  that  the  touch  of  her  lover  would 
change  the  world  for  her.  The  legend  that  her  mother 
had  taught  her  had  clogged  every  issue  for  her.  Early 
she  had  sentimentalized  love,  and  called  the  fiction 
Rod.  And  then  she  had  been  caught  by  the  glamour 
of  Oz's  position,  his  charm  of  person;  and  now  pas- 
sion was  gripping  her,  highly  colored  like  a  painful 
fever  through  its  failure  to  fit  into  her  early  conception 
of  it. 

Ward  longed  for  beauty  in  her  life  with  an  intense 
living  force  that  was  with  her  every  moment.  Her 
body,  perfect,  always  well  groomed,  her  home,  as  beau- 
tiful as  she  could  make  it,  her  relations  with  her 
friends,  all  splendid,  shining,  loving.  Everything  that 
she  put  her  hand  to  was  exquisite  in  detail.  She  was 
incapable  of  turning  out  a  badly  done  piece  of  work. 
Nothing  but  perfection  satisfied  her. 

Her  love  affair  must  be  perfection,  and  the  summit 
of  all  her  achievements.  There  must  be  nothing,  not 
one  incident  of  distrust,  disbelief,  or  unhappiness  to 
come  between  her  and  her  lover.  That  was  why  the 
affair  with  Oz  seemed  tarnished,  and  the  affair  with 

274 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  275 

Rod,  clean.  The  temporary  stain  on  the  love  of  Rod 
had  been  removed  by  his  four  years  of  constancy. 
When  she  saw  him,  everything  would  be  all  right. 

And  then  Rod  returned.  He  came,  eager,  diffident, 
encouraged  by  her  letters,  which  had  almost  accepted 
his  offers. 

And  when  she  looked  at  him  she  knew  that  his  love 
for  her  was  the  great  reality  of  his  life.  He  had  lived 
with  her  image  as  she  had  lived  with  his.  The  knowl- 
edge came  to  her  in  his  silent  figure,  in  his  gaze,  it 
was  somehow  more  a  part  of  him  than  anything  else 
about  him. 

Rod's  engaging,  youthful  manner  had  left  him.  The 
grace,  the  ease  that  had  clung  to  him,  dominating  any 
scene  of  which  he  was  a  part  during  that  summer  in 
Lakeshore  had  fled,  leaving  him  older,  almost  middle- 
aged.  He  wore  his  twenty-seven  years  with  a  sedate, 
sobered  manner  as  if  they  had  been  ten  years  more. 

He  was  no  longer  the  gay  conquering  king  of  the 
universe  of  youth.  He  was  a  small  town  business 
man,  who  had  to  be  careful  that  the  place  he  had  won 
in  his  little  world  was  not  snatched  from  him.  He 
was  away  from  home,  out  of  his  element.  He  showed 
it.  He  entered  a  room  quietly,  said  little,  and  was 
polite  and  serious  over  every  remark  that  was  ad- 
dressed to  him. 

The  social  manner  had  dropped  from  him  like  a 
cloak  of  yesterday.  The  old  gay  poise  that  .Ward  had 
so  admired,  and  in  remembering  loved,  had  deserted 
him.  He  did  not  even  have  the  fictitious  youth  that 
Oz  paraded.  There  was  nothing.  No  charm,  no  trace, 
except  a  resemblance  of  feature  to  the  old  Rod.  Here 
was  a  new  man,  a  man  who  loved  her  with  a  depth  of 
feeling  that  she  was  as  conscious  of  as  she  was  of  the 
big  lake  always  lying  at  the  gateway  of  the  city.  It 


276  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

was  there,  it  was  big,  it  would  always  be  there.  It 
belonged  in  her  life.  It  seemed  as  if  she  had  always 
known  that  Rod  still  loved  her;  that  he  would  come 
back  to  her. 

And  yet  she  no  more  loved  him  now  than  she  had 
loved  him  in  those  first  few  weeks  when  he  had  sought 
her  so  ardently,  so  youthfully,  so  romantically,  that 
the  flavor  of  it,  after  he  had  gone  had  given  her  an 
ideal  that  had  kept  her  from  falling  in  love  again  until 
she  had  met  Oz. 

His  love  was  the  most  real  thing  in  her  life.  More 
real  than  her  love  for  Oz,  in  spite  of  her  suffering  over 
him.  Her  love  for  Oz  fluctuated.  She  loved  him.  She 
hated  him.  She  loved  him.  But  Rod's  love  was  al- 
ways there,  unchanging,  a  mighty  eternal  fact. 

II 

And  then  began  an  endless  succession  of  days  in 
which  Ward  tortured  Rod,  and  Oz  tortured  Ward. 
She  would  play  out  silly  little  scenes  with  Oz  in  which 
she  was  a  spirit  of  anguish  scantily  covered  with  the 
robes  and  mask  of  joyousness.  Social  patter  gaped 
now  and  then  to  disclose  the  delicate  fabric  of  suffer- 
ing— her  habitual  garment. 

But  it  was  in  the  night  that  the  real  terrors  of  deso- 
lation assailed  her,  crushed  her  heart  like  a  flower  that 
has  been  tramped  on.  It  was  then  that  she  realized 
to  the  full  her  feeling  for  Oz,  in  the  sharp  fear  that 
knifed  her.  What  if,  after  all  she  should  lose  him. 
She  put  the  thought  away  as  unbearable,  and  went 
back  to  her  love,  which  was  shot  through  with  hate 
and  resentment,  and  the  desire  for  revenge  in  all  its 
vile  fascination  like  the  face  of  sin  revealed  in  a  flash 
of  lightning.  She  would  throw  herself  on  the  bed  while 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  277 

her  body  seemed  to  vibrate  through  it,  shaking  it, 
beating  up  and  down  with  the  passionate  rhythm  of  her 
blood,  willing  that  Oz  must  suffer,  praying  to  God  not 
to  let  him  escape. 

But  out  of  these  nights  of  tears,  out  of  these  after- 
noons of  meditating,  there  was  slowly  growing  a  great 
resolution.  Like  the  core  of  a  boil  that  must  force  its 
way  painfully  out,  leaving  a  hole  in  the  sensitive  flesh, 
a  decision  was  slowly  forming  in  her  inner  self  that 
would  sooner  or  later  bring  Ward  to  a  desperate  cli- 
max. 

Ill 

In  a  final  frenzied  effort  to  forget  Oz,  Ward  at- 
tempted to  switch  her  affections  to  Rod.  She  had 
played  fast  and  loose  with  Rod  for  three  weeks,  dis- 
missing him,  calling  him  back,  and  breaking  engage- 
ments with  him  at  a  moment's  notice,  for  Oz. 

Oz  was  coming  to  call,  and  she  was  dressed  and 
ready  to  receive  him  at  a  quarter  of  eight.  She  sat 
down  with  a  book  to  wait  for  him.  She  couldn't  ex- 
pect him  before  eight-thirty,  she  told  herself.  Still, 
he  might  come  at  eight.  In  the  next  room  Dizzy 
pounded  her  typewriter. 

At  eight  the  telephone  called  her.  It  was  a  member 
of  a  charity  to  which  she  belonged  asking  her  to  sell 
flowers  at  a  bazaar.  When  she  had  finished  with  this 
conversation  Rod  called  her  up,  and  she  talked  to  him, 
with  an  unquiet  mind.  Oz  might  come  in  at  any  mo- 
ment now. 

Eight-thirty.  She  fidgeted.  Then  she  called  the 
downstairs  office  and  enquired  if  a  caller  had  come 
for  her;  if  anyone  had  tried  to  get  her  on  the  phone 
while  she  was  talking.  No.  Dizzy  came  in  and  asked 


278  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

her  if  she  had  seen  the  dictionary  any  place,  then 
went  back  to  work.  She  resolutely  began  to  read,  and 
turned  a  page,  going  over  every  word  without  being 
able  to  sense  the  meaning.  Why  didn't  he  come?  Had 
he  forgotten? 

"Thought  you  were  expecting  a  caller  tonight.  Oz, 
or  somebody?"  called  Dizzy  from  the  next  room. 

"He's  late." 

Nine  o'clock.  Well,  of  course,  it  was  ridiculous  to 
be  upset  so  early.  Often  he  didn't  finish  dinner  be- 
fore nine.  She  tried  to  read  again.  Oh  Oz,  Oz,  why 
don't  you  come? 

Nine-thirty.  He  can't  be  coming.  She  started  to 
pull  off  her  blouse.  Might  as  well  go  to  bed.  Then 
she  threw  herself  involuntarily  on  the  couch  and  sob- 
bed and  sobbed  into  the  familiar  velvet  cushions. 
Never,  never  would  she  see  him  again.  This  was  the 
end.  She  pictured  herself  on  a  desert  island  with  him. 
He  pleaded  with  her  to  forgive  him  for  this.  She  saw 
herself  turning  away,  hard  and  cold  with  anger.  For 
something  dire,  dreadful,  to  happen  to  him!  She  hated 
him.  And  sat  up  wondering  how  any  human  could  be 
such  a  fiend.  She  wondered  how  he  could  do  it?  How 
could  he  do  it?  Her  eyes  caught  the  clock.  Nine- 
forty.  She  fell  into  another  fit  of  crying,  seized  her 
book,  determined  to  read,  determined  to  forget,  and 
choked  as  her  eyes  traveled  mechanically  down  the 
page.  Thinking,  thinking,  torturing  herself.  She 
would  have  this  to  stand  all  night.  Oh,  she  couldn't 
stand  it.  She  couldn't.  She  jumped  to  her  feet  and 
began  crazily  putting  her  blouse  back  on,  rushing  to 
the  mirror  nervously,  jabbing  powder  on  her  swelling 
face.  He  must  come.  He  must  come.  He  had  to 
come.  She  couldn't  live  if  he  didn't. 

At  ten-thirty  she  called  up  Rod,  and  asked  him  to 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  279 

meet  her  in  the  lobby  of  the  hotel.  She  could  not  en- 
dure another  minute. 

Rod  took  her  out  into  the  park.  They  walked  for 
some  time  in  silence.  Rod  knew  she  was  very  un- 
happy. He  suffered  with  her  as  much.  In  a  fellow- 
ship of  pain  they  tramped  through  the  ash-pale  winter 
park,  over  to  the  lake,  down  the  promenade,  saying 
little. 

"I've  never  told  you  Rod  that  you  were  the  hero  of 
my  dreams  for  four  long  years." 

Rod  spoke  huskily.  "And  then  you  met  some  one 
else.  I  came  just  too  late." 

"No.  An  infatuation.  Nothing  real.  No  sem- 
blance of  reality.  It  seems  impossible  for  me  to  live  a 
quiet  peaceful  inner  existence,  Rod.  It's  very  bad  for 
me.  But  after  you  left,  I  felt  it  much.  I  was  hurt, 
and  lost.  I  didn't  forget.  You  were  always  with  me, 
a  dream  person." 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  sleeve.  "And  you  were  al- 
ways with  me,  Ward.  All  those  years  in  that  stifling 
town.  You  can't  think  how  the  girls  in  that  town 
looked  to  me,  after  you.  There  was  absoultely  no  di- 
version there — even  of  the  ordinary  small  town  sort, 
because  the  girls  were  all  so  different  from  you — so 
inferior.  I  used  to  dream  about  how  I  would  bring 
you  back  there  and  make  them  all  sit  up  and  take 
notice.  Oh  Ward,  if  you  could  have  cared  for  me  how 
proud — well,  perhaps  it's  just  as  well.  I  would  be  be- 
side myself  with  joy,  I  suppose.  And  then  those 
ghastly  summer  nights,  when  the  sky  hung  overhead 
full  of  stars,  low  and  close  like  they  were  that  night 
on  the  beach  when  I  kissed  you.  Do  you  remem- 
ber?" 

"Rod,  I'd  give  anything,  anything,  if  we  had  mar- 
ried then." 


280  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  have  asked  you  to  come  and  share 
that  life.  Washing  dishes,  Ward,  I  can't  see  you  in 
the  picture.  Lord  knows,  I  have  nothing  to  offer  you 
now — just  a  fairly  comfortable  home  in  a  small  town. 
But  marriage  four  years  ago  would  have  meant 
squalor.  And  then  there  were  the  girls  to  consider. 
They  had  a  right  to  their  schooling." 

"Rod,  Rod.    I'm  so  unhappy." 

"Darling.  Oh  Ward.  Don't."  He  had  her  in  his 
arms,  his  lips  on  her  hair,  caressing  her  in  little  broken 
phrases.  "My  dear  girl.  Ward,  sweetheart.  Can't  I 
try?  Won't  you  just  give  me  a  chance?  You  needn't 
suffer  like  this,  anyway.  I  know  I'm  not  anything 
much  for  you." 

"Oh  Rod,  Rod."  There  was  some  comfort  in  his 
arms,  in  his  physical  presence.  She  relaxed.  Why 
not?  Why  not  give  up  Oz  definitely  and  finally?  For- 
get this  turmoil  and  go  with  Rod.  On  a  wave  of  de- 
cision she  lifted  her  head  and  met  his  hungry  lips  with 
her  own. 

He  held  her  fiercely,  intensely,  as  if  to  concentrate 
his  whole  life  into  that  moment.  But  his  passion  car- 
ried her  only  a  little  way.  While  he  was  still  tremb- 
ling, holding  her  close,  murmuring,  "Ward,  my  Ward," 
she  was  taking  command  of  the  situation;  surveying 
it  coolly. 

"We'll  begin  where  we  left  off  that  summer  night," 
she  said.  "I'm  not  just  the  same  girl.  I'm  old,  now. 
Tonight  I  feel  terribly  old." 

IV 

But  it  didn't  work.  Inside  of  three  days  she  had 
broken  off  finally,  irrevocably  with  Rod,  and  sent  him 
back  to  his  little  town.  Her  engagement  with  Oz  was 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  281. 

renewed.    He  was  eager  to  dose  the  matter,  wearied 
with  Ward's  exactions. 

And  then  quite  by  chance  she  saw  him  taking  tea 
one  afternoon  with  Miss  Fluke.  The  festering  sore 
had  come  to  a  head  at  last. 


CHAPTER  IV 


HE  looked  up  almost  as  she  saw  him,  rose  and  came 
over  to  where  she  sat.  By  an  extraordinary  chance 
she  was  alone.  Calling  on  a  friend  near-by,  she  had 
dropped  in  afterward  for  a  sandwich. 

"I  must  see  you  at  once,"  said  Ward.    "And  alone." 

Oz  sensed  the  crisis. 

"There's  a  little  reception  room  over  here  where  we 
can  go." 

It  was  a  small  white  room.  She  seated  herself  on  a 
straight,  high-backed  chair.  Behind  her  the  slender 
gray  design!  of  shadows  was  cast  by  a  handful  of 
rushes  in  a  vase  upon  the  white  wall,  a  design  that  was 
never  seen  before  and  will  never  be  seen  again,  since 
it  varied  with  the  journey  of  the  light.  The  sun  had 
fled  the  room  except  for  a  square  that  struck  golden 
on  the  carpet  to  her  right,  its  tinge  repeated  in  the 
crisp  yellow  frame  of  her  face.  Like  a  step  in  the 
dance  which  does  not  pause  upon  an  attitude  this  mo- 
ment fitted  into  her  life,  but  in  her  memory  it  re- 
mained always  immortal,  like  a  picture  that  has  been 
painted. 

Her  face  was  white  and  set,  and  sweet  with  pur- 
pose. Her  angry  passions  were  all  gone.  "I'm  never 
going  to  see  you  again,  Oz." 

He  began  to  fume,  nervously  to  set  up  a  re-action  to 
the  unexpected  dignity  she  suddenly  possessed. 

"You're  so  darn  jealous,  Ward.  What  harm  is  there 
in  a  little  tea  at  the  Gold  Garden.  We  aren't  going 

282 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  283 

to  limit  our  friendship  with  the  other  sex.  We've  al- 
ways agreed  to  that.  It's  so  damned  middle-class." 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It's  just  come 
over  me.  I've  just  realized  it.  That  you  don't  love 
me.  That  you  can't  love  me." 

Suddenly  Oz  wanted  her.  He  arose  and  came 
around  a  small  table  that  stood  between  them,  and 
grasped  her  shoulders.  He  wanted  desperately  to  get 
back  his  old  domination. 

"You're  talking  nonsense." 

"No!"  She  evaded  his  gaze,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
spot  of  sunlight  on  the  carpet.  "Something  has  come 
to  me.  It's  as  clear  as  it  can  be.  I  wouldn't  mind  a 
little  thing  like  your  lunching  with  another  woman  if  I 
were  sure  of  you,  if  I  could  ever  be  sure  of  you.  But 
I  can't.  That's  what  has  been  the  matter  all  along.  I 
knew  down  in  my  heart  that  you  could  never  love 
me." 

Oz  experienced  a  little  twinge  of  desire  for  honesty. 
"Love  doesn't  mean  the  same  thing  to  us  probably, 
but  in  my  way  I  love  you  as  much  as  any  man  can 
love  you.  It's  not  moonshine  and  romance  with  me 
any  more.  I'm  getting  old,  I  guess." 

"Moonshine  and  romance  isn't  love,  and  I'm  just 
finding  that  out.  Love  is  honesty  and  dependability, 
loyalty,—" 

Oz  shrugged.  "My  dear  girl,  why  didn't  you  marry 
your  little  country  boy.  I'm  sure  he  would  have  given 
you  all  that,  and  more.  Look  here,  Ward,  I  want  you. 
I  want  you,  damn  bad.  If  I  didn't  I  wouldn't  marry 
you.  You've  got  me,  and  I'd  like  to  know  what  more 
you  want.  There  are  plenty  of  girls  I  can  have.  I've 
never  seen  the  woman  yet  that  I  didn't  think — well, 
what  do  you  want  more?" 

"Love,  that's  all." 


284  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"All  right.    Say  I  don't  love  you  for  the  sake  of  the 
argument,  I'm  willing  to  marry  you  anyway.    That 
ought  to  satisfy  you." 
:     "But  it  doesn't.    This  is  the  end." 

"No!" 

"Yes!" 

They  panted  suddenly  with  the  strain  of  it.  Ward 
looked  at  him  as  he  stood  over  her,  then  rose,  shook 
herself. 

"But  why,  Ward?"  he  said  with  unexpected  gentle- 
ness. 

"It's  come  to  me.  Something  has  clicked  down  in- 
side of  me.  Everything  is  changed." 

She  looked  at  him  clearly,  blue  eyes  unruffled.  It 
came  from  somewhere  deep  down  in  her  and  carried 
conviction  to  Oz,  a  sickening  conviction. 

His  eyes  became  younger  than  Ward  had  ever  seen 
them.  He  wrinkled  his  brow,  contorted  his  face  in 
suffering.  "Look  here,  Ward,  I'll  admit  I've  been  rot- 
ten at  times,  but  I've  always  thought  a  lot  of  you  at 
bottom.  Let's  begin  over.  Let's  get  married,  and 
live  some  sort  of  life,  a  real  life — "  He  broke  off  as 
he  saw  he  was  having  no  effect  on  Ward. 

"It's  too  late,"  she  whispered. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  can't.    Don't  you  see?    I'm  changed." 

"You  mean  you  don't  care  any  more?  I  know.  I'll 
make  you  care  again." 

"It  isn't  that."  Her  eyes  were  luminous.  For  a 
moment  he  thought  she  was  going  to  cry.  But  she 
preserved  her  unnatural  calm.  "I  do  care.  I  love 
you.  I  can't  expect  to  make  you  understand.  It's 
just  that  I've  realized  it's  a  bad  job.  It's  spoiled  now. 
No  good.  I  can't  imagine  not  loving  you,  but  I  know. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  285 

Don't  ask  me  how,  I  just  know  that  I  can  never  marry 
you,  that  I  can't  even  see  you  any  more." 

"But  that's  nonsense.  If  you  love  me  there's  no 
reason  why  we  can't  be  friends  even  if  we  can't 
marry." 

It  seemed  to  her  that  he  was  already  fading,  re- 
ceding under  her  declaration  of  love.  It  registered  for 
future  pain.  Just  then  she  was  high  above  the  cur- 
rent of  suffering,  conscious  of  the  dizzy  depths  below 
to  which  she  must  inevitably  fall,  but  buoyed  up  by 
the  mysterious  strength  that  had  come  to  her  and  was 
making  her  break  with  Oz. 

He  took  a  turn  around  the  small  room  irritably, 
then  came  back  and  whirled  her  suddenly  into  his, 
arms.  His  eyes  looked  pleadingly  into  hers,  his  arms 
held  her  close,  he  bent  his  head  .  .  . 

Just  so,  she  had  felt  in  Rod's  arms.  She  thoughtjj 
Why  not?  Oz  was  Oz  still,  dear,  lovable,  handsome. 
She  yielded  her  lips  gratefully,  as  one  gulps  water  on 
a  hot  day.  It  was  what  she  wanted,  what  she  needed 
— Oz. 

"It's  all  right?"  said  Oz  triumphantly,  face  illu- 
mined. 

"No!" 

"But  you  do  love  me?" 

"Nothing's  changed.  I  always  did.  Kissing  like 
that  can't  change  it — " 

"Ward,  I  can't  understand  you." 

"Perhaps  I  don't  understand  very  well  myself.  But 
I  know." 

"Know  what?" 

"Know  that  this  is  the  last." 

They  kissed  passionately  again.  "I've  never  wanted 
you  like  this,  Ward."  His  voice  was  unsteady.  His 
body  trembled. 


286  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I  know.  It's  just  that  it's  too  late."  Something 
of  the  sweet  clarity  of  her  tone  infuriated  him.  It 
seemed  to  him  to  be  the  good  woman's  eternal  assump- 
tion of  superior  virtue.  Her  mother  must  have  used 
that  tone  often  to  her  father. 

"Don't,  then.  Don't  marry  me.  You  think  I'm  a 
rotter.  Yes,  you  do.  A  cad.  Let  me  tell  you,  young 
woman,  that  you  can  thank  your  lucky  stars  that  I'm 
not.  Do  you  think  I  haven't  known  that  I  could  do 
anything  that  I  liked  with  you?  You've  given  me 
chance  after  chance  to  prove  whether  I  was  a  cad  or 
not." 

"You  mean  that  I've  trusted  you,"  said  Ward  in  a 
voice  so  low  that  he  could  barely  hear.  She  knew 
that  this  would  be  the  worst  pain  of  all  afterward. 
Strangely  it  didn't  hurt  then. 

"Oh,  trusted  me,  yes.  But,  I  mean  that  you've 
given  me  opportunities  that  ninety-nine  men  out  of  a 
hundred  wouldn't  have  let  slip  by.  And  I've  been 
crazy  about  you,  too.  That's  it.  I've  cared  about  you 
too  much.  .  ."  He  drifted  into  a  maudlin,  sentimen- 
tal, partially  true  resume  of  their  relations  since  their 
meeting  and  of  his  feelings.  He  was  passionately  bent 
on  working  on  Ward's  emotions  with  a  highly  colored 
story  of  his  own  nobility  of  soul.  He  rambled  on 
through  three  paragraphs  that  might  have  been  writ- 
ten for  him  by  one  of  the  expert  photographers  of 
spurious  emotions  whose  works  are  so  popular  with 
girls  like  Ward. 

II 

At  the  end  Ward  slipped  off  the  ring  and  gave  it  to 
him.  "Goodby,"  she  said.  It  seemed  to  her  a  fitting 
thing  to  say.  She  felt  curiously  triumphant. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  287 

"Call  a  cab  for  me,  will  you?" 

'Til  go  with  you." 

"No,  oh  no!" 

"Promise  me  one  thing.  Call  me  up  if  you  change 
your  mind?" 

"All  right."    She  would  not  change. 

He  stood  at  the  door  of  the  taxicab,  smiling  a  pain- 
ful smile.  Their  eyes  met  for  the  last  time. 

She  sat  upright  in  the  jolting  yellow  car,  wondering 
how  soon  it  would  begin  to  hurt  her.  She  was  still 
stimulated  by  the  drama  of  the  encounter.  The  phy- 
sical comfort  of  his  kiss  still  lingered  like  a  drink  of 
warm  liquor.  How  long  would  it  be  before  she  would 
begin  to  think  of  the  cruel  things  he  had  said  to  her? 
Now,  she  saw  only  his  face,  distorted,  unnatural. 

As  she  turned  in  at  the  door  of  her  rooms  a  wound 
gashed  her  as  if  she  had  fallen  on  a  sword.  It  was  all 
over  now.  She  had  no  Oz.  There  was  no  Oz  any- 
more. 

She  threw  herself  across  the  bed  in  agony.  If  she 
could  only  cry  perhaps  the  bleeding  pain  would  go 
away  for  a  minute,  and  let  her  think  of  something  be- 
sides. "Oz  is  gone,  Oz  is  gone,  Oz  is  gone." 

Thank  heaven  she  could  be  alone.  Dizzy  would 
ask  no  questions.  But  she  couldn't  bear  to  see  even 
Dizzy.  The  fear  got  her  to  her  feet,  into  her  wraps 
and  out  in  the  park. 

She  walked  back  and  forth  striving  like  an  animal 
at  bay  to  ward  off  the  agonized  rendings  that  were 
threatening.  Thinking  desperately  of  practical  mat- 
ters, focusing  determinedly  on  trifles.  Exterior  ob- 
jects seemed  only  shadowy  outlines.  Reality  lay  in 
her  thoughts.  And  she  felt  the  necessity  of  keeping 
away  from  reality. 

And  so  she  walked,  a  drugged  person,  deliberately 


288  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

forcing  back  the  sickness  that  was  to  engulf  her.  She 
tramped  on  and  on,  her  body  cold,  hungry,  strained, 
hoping  for  relief,  knowing  there  was  none. 

At  midnight  she  crept  quietly  home,  threw  herself 
on  the  bed,  and  mercifully,  paradoxically,  slept. 

As  dawn  broke  she  arose  and  undressed  quietly. 
Dizzy  was  asleep  in  the  bed  across  the  room,  breath- 
ing peacefully  and  evenly. 

The  chill  morning  air  striking  her  body  through 
her  thin  crepe  de  chine  night  gown  made  her  shiver. 
With  the  shiver  came  a  nervous  reaction  and  tears. 
She  crept  into  bed,  cold  and  sobbing  with  relief  that 
tears  had  come.  For  a  few  minutes  she  lay  still. 
Then  she  began  to  pray  a  nervous  instinctive  prayer, 
"Dear  God  give  me  back  my  man.  Dear  God  give  me 
back  my  man." 

She  heard  Dizzy  moving  in  bed.  She  pretended  to 
sleep.  Dizzy  rose  quietly  not  to  disturb  her.  Finally, 
after  an  interminable  interval  in  which  she  feigned 
sleep,  she  was  alone. 

As  the  door  shut  on  Dizzy  and  she  was  alone  in  the 
apartment  she  burst  into  uncontrolled  sobs.  Only 
when  her  body  was  shaken  by  paroxysms  of  grief  did 
she  seem  to  get  relief  from  the  terrible  weight  that 
was  oppressing  her.  She  sat  up  in  bed  and  rocked 
herself  to  and  fro.  "I  think  I  am  going  insane,"  she 
said  to  herself  quietly,  over  and  over.  The  rhythm  of 
it  soothed  her,  she  listened  to  her  own  voice,  its  quality 
suddenly  musical  to  her  ears.  "I  think  I  am  going  in- 
sane, I  think  I  am  going  insane.  I  think  I  am  going 
insane."  She  lay  quiet  for  a  moment,  while  there  was 
a  surcease  of  the  pain  that  racked  her.  She  turned 
over  in  bed  and  writhed  with  anguish. 

At  last,  it  was  unbearable  to  lie  there  any  longer 
thinking  the  same  things  over  and  over.  She  would 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  289 

have  to  go  out  where  there  were  people.  There  had 
to  be  some  help  for  her  some  place.  She  jumped  out 
of  bed  and  turned  the  faucets  in  the  bath  tub.  But  as 
the  water  splashed  in  the  tub  she  knew  that  she  could 
never  stay  in  the  house  long  enough  to  bathe.  She 
drew  on  her  stockings  with  quick,  nervous  hands. 
There  was  just  one  idea  in  her  mind.  To  get  away 
from  the  place  where  she  had  spent  so  much  anguish. 

Ill 

Slipping  on  her  clothes  rapidly,  she  twisted  her  hair 
up  and  pulled  her  hat  down  over  her  face.  She  did 
not  powder  her  nose,  she  could  not  wait  to  get  out. 
But  she  took  a  little  silver  powder  case  to  use  once  she 
was  free  of  the  house.  As  the  door  closed  behind  her 
she  realized  that  she  had  forgotten  the  key.  It  did  not 
matter.  She  wondered  whether  she  would  ever  come 
home  again  or  not.  She  did  not  care. 

She  walked  on  for  two  blocks.  The  bright  sunlight 
brought  her  a  little  comfort  in  spite  of  herself.  She 
wondered  what  time  it  was.  She  thought  about  four 
in  the  afternoon,  judging  from  the  time  that  had  elapsed 
since  Dizzy  left.  She  looked  in  a  drug  store  window 
at  a  clock.  It  was  a  quarter  of  eleven. 

This  revelation  shocked  her.  "Oh,  how  will  I  get 
through  the  days,"  she  moaned  to  herself.  "How  will 
I  get  through  the  days."  When  she  had  walked  about 
a  mile  she  began  to  wonder  where  she  was  going.  A 
street  car  passing  caught  her  eye  and  she  boarded  it. 
It  was  full  of  greasy  people  who  sickened  her.  She 
got  off  after  a  few  blocks  and  wandered  forlornly 
about.  She  seemed  to  feel  better  while  she  was  mov- 
ing. Sitting  still  she  felt  insanity  coming  near.  After 
another  lapse  of  time  when  she  was  sure  it  must  be 


290  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

getting  towards  five  she  discovered  that  it  was  only 
one-thirty.  She  again  boarded  a  street  car  and  went 
down  town. 

She  remembered  that  she  had  some  shopping  to  do. 
What  was  the  use  of  shopping!  She  knew  she  would 
have  to  get  some  sort  of  hold  on  herself.  So  she 
forced  herself  into  buying  some  little  odds  and  ends 
she  needed.  Food!  Why,  of  course.  She  had  had 
nothing  to  eat  since  noon  the  day  before.  And  she 
had  been  hungry  at  four  o'clock  when  she  had  seen 
Oz.  She  had  not  eaten  her  sandwich  and  had  not 
thought  of  dinner.  Breakfast  and  lunch-time  had 
passed  since  then.  Perhaps  her  trouble  was  more  than 
half  physical. 

She  went  into  a  tea-room  and  ordered.  It  was  in- 
terminable waiting  for  her  food  to  come.  The  hours 
seemed  to  edge  into  her  presence,  grotesque  writhing 
mockeries,  dragging  their  slow  way  across  her  vision. 
All  the  rest  of  her  life  would  go  by  like  this  with  the 
slow  dead  beat  of  a  funeral  march. 

When  the  food  came,  she  poked  it  with  her  fork. 
It  was  disgusting.  Why  had  she  ordered  it?  She  took 
a  mouthful,  and  choked.  Her  stomach  rose.  She 
couldn't  eat. 

She  paid  her  check  and  left.  Two-thirty.  What 
next?  A  letter  should  tell  her  mother  the  news  at 
once.  She  couldn't  bear  to  read  another  long  senti- 
mental essay  from  her  mother  on  the  joys  of  young 
love. 

There  was  a  writing  room  near  the  tea  room.    She 
tried  to  think  what  she  would  say. 
"Dear  Mother: 

I  am  no  longer  engaged — " 

She  tore  the  paper. 
"Mother  dear: 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  29  L 

I  have  broken  my  engagement  to  Oz.  After  all  he 
is  not  the  right  man.  I  saw  him  yesterday  having  tea 
with  a  very  common  sort  of  girl — " 

She  paused.  Was  that  the  real  reason  she  had  done 
it?  Because  of  Miss  Fluke?  Jealousy?  She  laughed. 
A  mountain  out  of  a  molehill.  She  ought  to  have 
known  better.  Her  heart  lightened  like  a  bag  of  salt 
passed  through  a  stream  of  running  water.  She  would 
go  and  call  him  up  at  once.  She  could  see  him,  stand- 
ing bare-headed  by  the  taxi-cab  saying,  "Call  me  up 
if  you  change  your  mind,  dear."  She  saw  the  wistful 
boyish  look  in  his  eyes,  the  tight  look  at  the  corners 
of  his  mouth.  A  flood  of  love  rushed  over  her,  and 
she  went  precipitously  for  the  telephone. 

Receiver  to  her  ear,  she  saw  a  flash  of  his  face, 
sneering,  repelling,  full  of  scornful  sureness  of  her. 
She  dropped  it  and  it  dangled  there  by  the  phone 
while  she  heard  him  saying,  .  .  .  "don't  you  think  I 
didn't  know  I  could  do  anything  I  wanted  with  you 
.  .  .  I've  never  seen  the  woman  yet  .  .  ." 

She  walked  slowly  away.  On  the  writing  table  she 
had  left  her  unfinished  letter  to  her  mother,  and  her 
purse.  She  went  steadily  out  of  the  shop,  thinking 
over  the  whole  scene  of  the  afternoon  before,  absorbed, 
on  and  on,  through  the  crowds. 

IV 

She  was  left  without  defenses.  Dizzy  had  met  a 
very  similar  situation  with  two  great  weapons,  a  habit 
of  work,  and  decision  of  judgment.  Ward  had 
neither.  She  had  only  the  love  legend.  She  had  tried 
honestly  to  mold  her  life  to  this  far-flung  ideal;  agony 
to  the  point  of  insanity  was  the  result.  If  she  had 
disregarded  it  instinctively  like  Sari,  or  with  intel- 


292  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

lectual  deliberation  like  Dizzy,  or,  realizing  its  charla- 
tanism used  it  as  a  drape  to  cover  her  machinations 
like  Nita,  the  accepted  and  successful  method,  she 
might  have  had  a  chance.  As  it  was  she  found  her- 
self in  the  position  of  a  man  in  a  shipwreck  who  lets  a 
raft  drift  by  in  order  to  cling  to  a  hand-carved  grand- 
father's clock.  If  she  had  been  unbeautiful,  like 
Helene  Partridge,  she  would  still  be  waiting  for  her 
man  to  come,  loathing  her  home,  hating  her  mother, 
yet  unbelievably  credulous,  turning  more  and  more  to 
the  popular  novel,  the  moving  picture  which  provides 
a  vicarious  enjoyment,  that  becomes  pathetically  less 
possible  of  realization  year  after  year. 


On  Michigan  avenue,  Ward  met  a  young  man  that 
had  paid  her  some  attention.  She  saw  in  his  eyes, 
which  were  kind  and  friendly,  that  her  appearance 
shocked  him.  With  a  sort  of  enveloping  tenderness 
that  many  young  men  possess,  he  asked  her  to  tea. 
She  accepted  gratefully,  and  fled  to  the  woman's  room 
of  a  hotel  to  look  at  herself  in  a  mirror. 

Her  skin  was  white  and  drawn.  It  looked  dry  and 
anaemic  like  the  rabbit-shaped  faces  of  a  type  of  un- 
dernourished girl.  Her  hair,  unbrushed,  came  from 
under  her  hat  in  pitiful  wisps.  Her  lips  were  with- 
out color. 

Rouge!  She  could  put  on  a  quantity  of  rouge  and 
conceal  her  grief  a  little.  She  asked  the  maid  for 
some  make-up,  and  washed  her  face  vigorously.  Then 
she  discovered  that  she  had  no  money.  Not  even  a 
quarter  for  a  tip.  The  maid  was  one  of  those  caress- 
ing young  negro  women,  who  must  be  descended  from 
old  negro  mammies.  Ward  left  the  room,  resembling 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  293 

the  habitues  of  Peacock  alley,  and  put  her  mind  reso- 
lutely on  flirting  with  her  escort. 

She  concentrated  on  the  job  in  hand,  and  was  able 
to  rid  her  mind  sufficiently  of  her  trouble  to  eat.  The 
young  man,  Billy  Hammersmith,  a  well-groomed,  well- 
meaning  youngster,  was  charmed  and  held.  He  didn't 
guess  that  Ward  had  pinned  her  attention  on  him  by 
wrenching  her  thoughts  into  a  position  and  holding 
them  there  by  sheer  nervous  energy.  If  she  once 
stopped  flirting,  she  knew  that  she  would  cry. 

And  in  the  back  of  her  mind  somewhere  was  the 
notion  playing  about  with  naughty  abandon,  like  a 
naked  six-year-old  in  a  public  pool,  that  Oz  might 
come  in,  might  see  her  there  talking,  laughing,  enjoy- 
ing herself. 


VI 


This  idea  dominated  her  in  the  days  that  followed. 
She  must  go  out.  She  must  be  seen  in  restaurants,  in 
dubs  where  Oz  would  be  likely  to  go,  motoring,  walk- 
ing in  the  park.  She  was  acting  a  part  every  moment, 
feeling  Oz's  eyes  upon  her  somewhere  in  the  crowd 
all  about  her. 

She  gathered  a  string  of  undesirable  males  that  kept 
her  continually  busy.  No  one  was  too  unattractive 
for  her  smiles. 


VII 


She  sat  in  a  second-rate  restaurant  one  night  watch- 
ing a  dark,  black-browed,  purple  lipped  man  with  an 
ochre  complexion  place  his  cheek  against  a  girl,  and 


-294  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

carefully  fit  his  middle-aged  body  to  hers.  He  was 
long  and  oily  and  slimp  like  a  snake,  and  dark  and 
muddy-looking,  like  the  deepest  place  in  a  stagnant 
pool,  and  withal  sleek  and  well-groomed  as  he  shook 
liis  body  in  the  sinuous  shimmy,  and  allowed  the  sex 
passion  to  dominate  his  face.  And  the  girl,  with  eyes 
like  a  baby  waking  from  a  nap,  danced  daintily  and 
easily  as  if  she  loved  being  in  his  arms. 

Ward  looked  across  the  table  at  her  own  escort.  A 
toad,  talking  of  ideals  that  he  didn't  have.  She 
watched  his  face  as  the  music  howled  and  amused  her- 
self by  imitating  his  expressions  so  that  she  would  not 
have  to  listen  to  what  he  was  saying. 

She  had  let  him  order  wine  for  her.  She  drank 
until  the  outlines  and  images  of  the  places  merged 
into  the  realities  that  were  her  thoughts.  It  was  nebu- 
lously amusing. 

They  got  into  a  taxi  and  drove  about  the  city. 
Ward  smoked  cigarette  after  cigarette,  laughing  at  the 
lights  along  the  lake  front,  repulsing  with  inward 
mirth  the  efforts  of  the  man  with  her  to  take  her  hand, 
to  make  love  to  her.  It  was  so  funny  that  he  didn't 
know  he  wasn't  really  there.  He  was  such  a  toad,  and 
so  unimportant,  and  ridiculous. 

And  then  a  thought.  The  man  who  had  shimmied, 
the  repulsive,  livid-lipped  dancer  with  the  child  in  his 
arms. 

"I'm  going  home." 

"Oh,  but  not  yet." 

"Take  me  home — " 

At  home  she  slipped  out  of  her  clothes  and  into  bed, 
sobbing,  begging  heaven  to  strike  her  dead,  writhing, 
turning,  taunted  everywhere  by  that  picture.  And 
the  man  was  Oz,  and  she  was  the  girl. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  295 

VIII 

She  wrote  Anita. 

"Oz  and  I  have  broken  off  forever.  My  heart  is 
just  torn  to  pieces.  I  am  going  through  a  painful  re- 
adjustment. In  spite  of  everything  I  still  long  for  Oz 
and  want  him.  I  think  I  would  be  willing  to  give  up 
everything  for  him.  I  wonder  then,  why  I  don't.  Per- 
haps I  will.  All  those  things  we've  talked  over  and 
hoped  for  in  married  life  hold  me  back.  You  got 
them.  I  am  glad.  Sometimes  I  think  I  am  a  little  in- 
sane, I  want  him  so  much. 

"I  wonder  why  God  doesn't  send  the  right  man  to 
me  and  let  me  marry  him  in  peace.  Today  I  have 
been  thinking  that  I  will  never  marry.  I  will  make  a 
way  for  myself  with  some  sort  of  work  and  flirt  my 
way  through  life.  Flirting  is  the  only  thing  I  can  do 
well. 

"There  is  a  struggle  going  on  in  me  for  ideals.  Shall 
I  have  ideals  or  not?  They  hurt.  Life  will  be  so  much 
easier  and  pleasanter  without  them,  and  after  all  what 
does  it  matter?  Why  do  we  feel  that  we  must  have 
them?  To  take  away  that  curious  flat  taste  that  noth- 
ing matters,  I  suppose.  Oz  chose  the  path  of  no 
ideals.  I  know  that  now,  and  that's  why  we  can't 
marry.  What  is  the  real  way  to  live?  To  let  every- 
thing roll  off  of  you  like  water  off  a  duck's  back? 
That  is  Oz's  way. 

"I  am  waiting  for  Billy  Hammersmith  to  come  and 
take  me  out.  I  wish  he  would  come  so  that  I  could 
flirt  with  him.  I  must  get  some  work  to  do,  or  else 
flirt  and  flirt  and  flirt.  There  is  no  deep  sort  of  satis- 
faction for  me  in  life  any  place. 


296  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Please  tell  mother  about  it.    I  can't  write  about  it 
just  yet.    Don't  show  her  this  letter. 

"Love, 

"WARD." 
"P.  S.    Tear  this  up." 


CHAPTER  V 


DIZZY  facing  suffering  similar  to  Ward's  battered  it 
down  with  her  unfathomable  energy.  She  did  not  in- 
vestigate her  own  feelings  hourly  as  Ward  did.  She 
was  too  contemptuous  of  the  love-sick  young  girl  at- 
titude; her  self-confidence  was  sufficient  to  carry  her 
through  to  the  time  she  knew  was  coming  when  Jim's 
glamour  would  have  faded. 

She  finished  her  novel,  and  prepared  to  go  east  to 
assault  the  long-suffering  Hopkins,  oracle  for  all  the 
Dizzys  of  this  generation. 

She  did  not  see  Jim  before  she  left.  Her  fortitude 
was  unbelievable  to  Ward,  who  still  begged  her  to  take 
Jim  back. 

"No.  Any  love  of  mine  would  be  short-lived,  any- 
way," Dizzy  said  with  a  conviction  back  of  her  tones 
that  almost  amounted  to  bragging.  "By  this  time  I 
have  so  completely  analyzed  my  feelings  for  Jim  that 
I  am  content  without  a  glimpse  of  him.  He's  a  beau- 
tiful dream  and  I'm  glad  it  happened.  But  after  all, 
my  work  means  more  to  me." 

"But  Dizzy,  I  should  think  he  could  help  you  in 
your  work.  I  mean  the  experience.  I  should  think  it 
would  make  your  life  richer,  give  you  more  under- 
standing. If  you  actually  married  Jim!  After  all  it's 
a  girl's  greatest  experience,  isn't  it?  And  you  could 
turn  your  love  for  him  into  your  work,  I  should  think. 
Just  as  you  have  your  suffering — " 

297 


298  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"I  have  not  turned  my  suffering  into  work,"  Dizzy 
snapped.  "Oh  Heavens,  Ward!  The  sublimated  love 
view  of  art!  I  refuse  to  countenance  it — this  turned 
into  other  channels  idea.  It's  anaemic.  Old-maidish! 
Woman-writerish!  I  suffer  about  my  work  just  as 
strongly,  just  as  abstractly  as  I  do  about  the  man  I 
want.  I  believe  that  each  moment  of  the  day  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  other  by  the  dominating  interest  of 
the  moment.  I  am  no  more  love-sick  when  I  think 
•about  my  novel  than  when  I  eat.  The  weather  in- 
fluences my  mood  more  than  the  need  of  a  lover.  Of 
course  that  is  because  I  refuse  to  symptomize  my  soul 
as  most  young  women  do,  and  take  stock  of  pains  con- 
tinually. And  because  I  am  not  razzled  and  titillated 
by  the  abstract  idea  of  love.  And  you,  Ward,  have  no 
business  to  entertain  such  thoughts.  Love  is  a  mun- 
dane business,  and  to  get  inspiration  from  realistic 
source  for  art  is  not  like  you." 

Ward  was  a  little  bewildered,  a  little  hurt.  She  felt 
that  out  of  her  greater  experience  she  could  advise 
Dizzy,  but  it  was  evident  that  Dizzy  was  merely  con- 
temptuous of  her  experience  with  men.  She  saw  her 
off  for  New  York  alone,  as  Sari  sent  a  note  at  the  last 
moment  saying  that  the  Custard  Pie  players  opening 
prevented  her  from  coming  to  the  station.  She  con- 
cluded her  message: 

"For  thirty  traitorous  seconds  I  wanted  to  go  east 
with  you,  when  I  finally  realized  you  were  going.  It's 
been  my  dream  for  so  long.  I  woke  up  Cecil  and  told 
him,  after  you  telephoned.  There  was  a  heavy  silence 
for  a  moment — then  he  said,  are  you  going  with  her? 
I  said — No!  Why  would  I  want  to  go  with  her?  He 
heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  and  went  back  to  sleep.  Next 
day  he  begged  me  in  tones  that  didn't  sound  convinc- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  299 

ing  to  go  with  you,  and  he'd  come  later  with  the  babies. 
Gee,  I  wish  I  could  see  you  off! 

Love,  SARI." 


II 


Ward  left  the  Union  station  a  little  more  blue  than 
usual.  Her  mood  was  damp,  soppy,  disagreeable,  with 
an  element  of  self-disgust  that  took  away  the  slightly 
voluptuous  feeling  of  faint  enjoyment  that  she  some- 
times had  in  this  period  of  painful  brooding  over  Oz. 

A  heart-broken  Jim  called  her  on  the  telephone  al- 
most as  soon  as  she  got  back  to  the  apartment.  He 
wanted  the  solace  of  her  company  that  evening.  She 
invited  him  to  take  her  to  the  opening  of  the  Custard 
Pie  Players,  and  Sari's  debut  as  Sudermann's  "Mar- 
got." 

Bewilderment  was  marking  a  definite  line  between 
Jim's  brows  that  was  never  to  leave  him.  He  was 
unable  to  understand  Dizzy,  and  had  hoped  up  to  this 
day  that  a  young  girl's  caprice  was  keeping  them 
apart.  He  had  bought  books  on  economics,  labor,  so- 
cialism, syndicalism,  the  Russian  Soviet,  and  tried 
painfully  to  get  through  them.  They  puzzled  him, 
and  shocked  him,  and  upset  his  standards.  Life  was 
no  longer  simple  and  easy.  The  formula — work  hard 
and  marry  a  nice  girl  and  happiness  will  mathemati- 
cally result — was  not  going  to  work  in  his  case.  A 
dim  bitterness  colored  the  constant  attempt  to  think 
outside  the  grooves  in  which  he  had  always  thought. 
In  addition  to  his  suffering  at  the  loss  of  Dizzy,  his 
consciousness  throbbed  unmercifully  with  the  brain 
muddle  the  talks  with  her  had  brought  on. 

His  conversation  to  Ward,  disjointed,  dressed  mea- 


300  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

gerly  in  an  appearance  of  impersonality,  reflected  his 
hopeless  mental  tangle. 

"Do  you  think  that  when  a  girl  and  a  man  disagree 
about  some  question  that  it's  serious?  I  mean  do  you 
think  it  matters  in  a  love  affair  if  people  don't  happen 
to  hold  all  the  same  opinions?  Now  I  believe  in  being 
broad-minded — " 

Ward  gave  him  a  superficial  attention  and  answered 
his  questions  mechanically. 

Ill 

The  lower  floor  of  the  Custard  Pie  Club  was  filled 
with  people.  Jane  Austin,  a  girl  with  hair  cut  short 
and  in  men's  clothes,  sat  sulkily  taking  in  dollars,  her 
sullen  eyes  challenging  a  combat  with  anyone  who 
cared  to  take  her  on.  Small  nuclei  of  Custard  Pie 
types  clotted  here  and  there,  were  stared  at  by  the 
larger  groups  who  had  come  to  be  stirred  by  the  un- 
conventional, possibly  immoral.  A  big-busted  Jewess, 
clothed  in  velvet  and  furs,  kept  her  small,  tortoise- 
shell-spectacled  husband  close  to  her  as  she  watched 
Janet  Millwright  and  Raleigh  Minster  seated  at  a 
small  table,  deep  in  conversation.  Janet,  garbed  in 
the  lavenders  and  smoke  colors  she  loved,  had  tucked 
into  her  pale  hair  half  a  dozen  cheap  rose  colored 
ostrich  plumes,  whose  color,  repeated  in  her  lips,  gave 
her  a  splendid,  bizarre  luxurious  aspect  that  all  the 
expensive  clothes  of  the  large  woman  had  not  been 
able  to  bring.  Janet  was  smoking,  and  Raleigh,  in  a 
purple  tarn,  was  leaning  across  the  table,  looking  into 
her  eyes,  and  now  and  then  taking  a  puff  from  her 
cigarette. 

Another  outraged  spectator  of  that  scene  was  Mrs. 
Partridge  of  Lakeshore.  Helene,  too,  her  body  half 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  301 

turned  away  from  them,  was  watching  them  obliquely. 
All  her  most  secret  impulses  were  roused  and  she 
feared  to  be  seen  watching  them;  yet  in  looking  away 
she  inflicted  a  cruelty  on  herself  as  painful  as  the 
snatching  of  a  hungry  baby  from  its  mother's  breast. 
She  looked  back  again  and  again,  until  Raleigh  and 
Janet,  ardent  Freudians  always  on  the  lookout  for 
examples  of  sex  inhibitions,  noticed  her. 

"Let's  give  her  a  real  thrill!" 

They  leaned  closer  across  the  table  and  kissed,  a 
long  kiss,  probably  only  enjoyable  for  its  histrionic 
value. 

As  Helene  watched,  the  sex  currents  were  stirred 
like  a  muddy  pool  in  a  wind  storm,  while  she  suffered 
intensely  from  shame  and  disgust.  For  a  part  of  a 
moment  she  admitted  to  herself  that  she  would  like 
to  be  Janet.  It  was  not  so  much  an  admission  as  a 
revelation,  glimpsed,  dying  at  the  breath  of  her  con- 
scious thought;  she  was  as  honestly  desirous  as  Ward 
of  gaining  a  perfect  mate  romantically. 

IV 

"Oh,  there's  Ward!"  Janet  smiled  and  held  out  her 
hand,  radiating  her  distinction  with  the  expression 
and  gesture.  "Do  come  here.  We're  having  such  an 
important  discussion  about  matrimony!" 

Jim  and  Ward  were  drawn  to  form  a  circle.  Jim 
had  gallantly  met  Miss  Millwright  before.  Janet 
ignored  him  for  Ward.  Raleigh  offered  a  cigarette. 

"You  see,  we're  discussing  the  value  of  illusions  in 
matrimony.  We've  about  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
men  have  to  have  a  set  of  romantic  standards  to  go 
on,  but  that  women  don't  need  them." 

The  discussion  was  beyond  Jim.    Ward  had  a  sud- 


302  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

den  flash  of  thought  but  it  was  gone  before  she  knew 
what  it  was.  The  idea  interested  her. 

"You  see,  women  are  unconsciously  exploiters  of 
sentiment  and  romanticism,"  said  Janet,  reciting  the 
latest  bit  she  had  picked  up  somewhere  in  her  reading 
or  conversation,  with  a  brilliant  but  false  effect  of 
having  given  the  subject  some  thought.  "The  aver- 
age girl  realizes  that  to  keep  her  husband  chaste  the 
strongest  weapon  she  has  is  his  own  romantic  feelings 
about  the  splendor  of  a  faithful  husband.  She  plays 
up  to  that  and  invests  the  role  with  such  an  attractive 
moral  color  that  the  average  man  is  perfectly  safe  in 
the  gaudiest  house  of  prostitution!" 

Jim  blushed.  Raleigh  leaned  over  the  table  and 
shook  his  head  admiringly  at  Janet.  "You  sure  do  get 
things,  Janet.  I  can't  help  agreeing  with  you." 

"Yes.  The  American  girl  is  great  at  exploiting  sen- 
timentality and  phony  romanticism." 

The  flash  come  to  Ward  again.  Anita!  She  sighted 
a  vague  form  in  the  background  of  her  mind.  Was 
that  the  difference  between  Anita  and  her?  On  the 
surface  they  were  alike,  talking  about  their  ideals, 
believing  in  them — did  Anita  believe  in  them?  Some- 
how these  school-girl  ideals  had  served  Anita,  while 
Ward  had  been  the  slave  of  them.  Was  Anita  like  the 
girl  Janet  described? 

"I  almost  get  what  you  mean,"  Ward  said.  "But 
don't  you  think  that  sometimes  a  girl  herself  is  duped 
by  this  sentimentality — " 

This  was  a  new  tack  for  Janet.  She  switched  the 
subject. 

"You  see  Raleigh  and  I  find  the  subject  especially 
piquant  because  we  were  just  married  this  afternoon!" 

Married!  Oh!  And  exclamations!  Ward  and 
Jim  both  came  forward  with  the  conventional  greet- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  303 

ings.  Jim  was  especially  warm.  It  relieved  him  to 
know  that  this  friend  of  Dizzy's  was  saved.  Janet 
and  Raleigh  weariedly  accepted  congratulations. 

"It's  really  nothing,"  said  Janet.  "It  was  just  more 
convenient  for  Raleigh  to  have  a  wife  going  around 
with  him  on  some  of  his  tours  than  just  a  girl.  Some 
people  objected,  you  know,  and  he  couldn't  get  an  en- 
gagement to  speak  before  the  Hammond  Woman's 
Club.  So  we  decided  to  get  married.  I  distribute 
pamphlets,  you  know." 

Ward  murmured  something.  Janet  patronizingly 
said  that  she  had  to  leave  as  she  was  going  to  be  on 
in  the  third  act.  She  went  to  the  back  of  the  club  and 
disappeared  up  the  stairs. 


Helene  had  been  watching  the  encounter,  longing 
to  come  forward,  held  back  by  self -consciousness.  But 
Ward  saw  her. 

"Oh  Helene!    I'm  so  glad  to  see  you."    They  kissed. 

"My  dear,  I  heard  that  you  were  engaged.  Is  it 
true?" 

Ward  flushed.  "Oh,  no.  Just  another  rumor,  I 
guess." 

"They  float  around  everywhere." 

But  the  comment  had  jerked  Ward  back  into  the 
land  dominated  by  Oz  again.  She  began  to  be  ani- 
mated, to  laugh,  and  turn  here  and  there,  excitedly 
acting  her  usual  part  to  the  imaginary  Oz  somewhere 
in  the  crowd. 

A  group  moved  toward  the  door.  It  was  eight- 
thirty.  The  curtain  upstairs  was  scheduled  to  rise  at 
eight-fifteen.  The  crowd,  sheep-like,  followed  the 


304  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

leading  group  at  the  door  and  the  audience  filed  up- 
stairs and  took  their  places  on  the  stiff  benches. 

The  orange  curtains  were  drawn  back  and  had  de- 
veloped a  hitch.  Tex  was  swearing  at  them  and  try- 
ing to  pull  them  together.  He  glared  fiercely  down 
at  the  crowd. 

"What're  yez  all  doin'  up  here  now?"  he  shouted 
furiously.  "Ain't  ye  got  no  manners?  Where  was  ye 
brung  up?  Git  out  o' here!  Git!  Git!  Git!"  He 
batoned  a  hammer  over  their  heads. 

A  general  movement  backward  started.  Tex,  ham- 
mer in  hand,  advanced  on  them  threateningly.  "I'll 
teach  ye.  Comin' up  here  before  you're  told!  Git  the 
Hell  out,  I  tell  you.  Git!  Git!  Git!  Yez  are  all  of 
ye  crazy  with  the  heat.  Git  the  Hell!" 

They  stampeded  down  the  stairs,  Tex  following 
them  to  the  head  of  the  well  belligerently.  Then  he 
went  back  to  the  curtains. 

Sari,  dressed  for  her  part,  beckoned  Ward  into  her 
apartment.  "He's  simply  going  nutty.  Everything  is 
going  wrong,"  she  said  giggling.  "My  dear,  it's  an 
absolute  scream.  Tex  got  a  girl  from  the  west  to  come 
and  paint  the  scenes,  that  girl  with  the  short  cut  hair 
that  was  taking  in  the  tickets.  Her  name  is  Jane 
Austen,  and  she's  the  wildest  thing!  She's  even  made 
Janet  take  notice. 

"The  first  scene  is  supposed  to  be  the  interior  of  an 
Irish  hut,  you  know.  She's  been  painting  in  California 
and  she's  supposed  to  be  an  expert,  the  latest  thing  in 
little  theater  settings.  So  Tex  and  Pat  told  her  to  go 
on  ahead,  after  she  had  read  the  play.  Well,  my  dear, 
she  painted  her  idea  of  the  interior  of  an  Irish  hut,  and 
it  was  simply  one  nude  woman  after  another,  just  as 
close  together  as  she  could  squeeze  them,  on  the  back 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  305 

drop.  Of  course  we  had  to  make  her  paint  it  out  and 
she's  furious." 

"But  what  did  the  nude  women  have  to  do  with  the 
Irish  hut?" 

"That's  what  nobody  knows,  but  she's  absolutely 
furious  with  the  whole  bunch  of  us  about  it,  and  es- 
pecially with  me,  because  I  laughed.  To  complicate 
matters  Tex  is  awfully  struck  with  her,  and  it  looks 
like  an  affair.  And  now  the  curtain  won't  go  together 
and  it's  nearly  half  an  hour  after  time  to  open,  and 
Pat  is  in  hysterics." 

Outside  they  could  hear  Tex  stamping  across  the 
theater  and  downstairs  into  the  hall  where  the  crowd 
waited.  "Yez  can  come  on  up,  now,"  they  heard  him 
say. 

When  the  crowd  had  gathered,  the  manager  of  the 
Custard  Pie  Club  made  the  opening  speech.  In  a  blue 
denim  shirt  open  at  the  throat,  and  soiled  from  much 
hard  stage  carpentering,  he  stood  against  the  orange 
curtains  to  say: 

"Yez  are  all  a  pack  of  crazy  damn  fools!  The  lot 
of  you!  None  of  ye  was  brung  up  right,  and  it 
wouldn't  ha'  done  no  good  if  yez  had  been.  You're 
crazy  in  the  first  place  or  yez  wouldn't  be  here;  and 
so  if  ye  don't  like  it  ye  can  just  git  out  right  now!" 

This  opening  restored  his  good  humor. 

"This  here's  a  new  art  movement  and  it  ain't  com- 
mercial. It's  a  swell  new  art  movement,  and  we  got  a 
lot  of  professionals  here  that  has  got  Blanche  Bates 
and  Sarah  Bernhardt  backed  off  the  boards.  And  we 
got  the  swellest  scene  painter  ye  ever  seen,  the  swellest 
blind  scene  painter  in  the  country.  She  paints  scenes 
for  blind  people.  She  come  down  from  California,  and 
she's  painted  some  of  the  swellest  settings  ye  ever 
seen!" 


806  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

He  gurgled  in  his  throat,  choked  and  went  on. 

"Now  them  crazy  damn  fools  that  come  up  here 
before  they  was  wanted  are  a  bunch  of  nuts,  and 
they'd  better  git  to  Hell  and  back  before  they  try  anjT 
of  them  tricks  on  me  agin!  See?  Now  listen,  if  you 
don't  like  this  here  show  it's  because  you've  got  no 
artistic  sense.  The  actors  have  all  worked  hard  and 
they're  a  swell  bunch.  First,  they're  going  to  give  a 
fine  Irish  play  by  this  here  bird  ...  I  forgit  his 
name.  Then  'Margot,'  by  Sudermann,  and  the  last 
of  all  a  play  named  'Cocaine,'  by  Pendleton  King, 
which  has  never  been  given  in  this  city  before.  In 
fact  none  of  the  plays  has  been  give  here  by  any  little 
the-ay-ter.  And  this  here  is  the  best  little  the-ayter 
you  ever  seen,  and  if  you  don't  think  so,  it's  because 
you're  all  a  pack  of  damn  fools." 

After  this  propitiatory  sibilation  he  tactfully  with- 
drew into  the  orange  curtains,  saying  to  the  actors  on 
the  stage  in  a  voice  perfectly  audible  to  the  audience: 
"There!  That's  the  way  to  interdoose  a  new  art 
movement." 

VI 

The  Irish  play,  interspersed  with  many  long 
speeches  delivered  in  oratorical  fashion,  made  every 
honest  soul  in  the  audience  either  fidgety  or  sleepy  be- 
fore it  even  hinted  at  a  climax.  A  few  intense  maidens, 
chins  hitched  forward,  believing  themselves  to  be  im- 
proving mentally  each  moment,  deluded  themselves 
into  a  kind  of  interest.  The  curtain  fell  on  scattered 
applause. 

Sudermann's  play,  set  in  a  lawyer's  office,  was  next 
on  the  program.  At  the  last  moment  Sari  discovered 
that  a  group  of  pictures  that  were  to  represent  the 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  307 

women  the  lawyer  had  loved,  which  had  been  pur- 
chased that  afternoon  at  the  ten-cent  store,  had  been 
carefully  arranged  by  Jane  Austen  in  regular  order, 
one  in  the  center  of  each  panel,  to  look  like  decora- 
tions on  part  of  the  wall  paper.  Realizing  that  her 
lines  were  spoiled  unless  they  were  grouped  together, 
Sari  hastily  pulled  them  down  from  the  wall  and  placed 
them  on  a  table  in  a  corner. 

As  her  cue  came  to  go  on,  a  hard  determined  hand 
gripped  her  by  the  shoulder.  "You  little  fool.  You 
little  simpering  fool,  you've  gone  and  spoiled  my  deco- 
rations. You've  gone  and  spoiled  my  idea.  My  ef- 
fect—" 

Sari,  trembling  with  excitement,  wrenched  herself 
free.  She  ran  towards  the  entrance  to  the  stage  and 
managed  to  get  on  only  a  second  late. 

She  went  through  her  lines  steadily,  until  she  came 
to  her  biggest  scene  when  she  was  to  break  down  and 
cry.  She  had  just  seated  herself  to  open  on  the  climax 
when  a  shrill  voice  at  the  back  of  the  house  distracted 
the  attention  of  everyone. 

"Listen!  Just  listen!  She's  a  wonderful  actress! 
I'll  say  she  is !  That  accent.  Where  she  got  that  Eng- 
lish accent  kills  me!  Raised  in  the  Ghetto  and  got  an 
English  accent!  Spoiling  my  whole  scene  by  bunch- 
ing those  pictures!  My  God!  She  has  no  idea  of 
art!  She  tries  to  spoil  every  scene  I  do.  Oh  my  God, 
that  voice!" 

It  was  the  implacable  Jane  Austen.  Someone  seized 
her  and  carried  her  out  screaming.  This  brightened 
up  the  audience  which  waited  the  third  play,  "Co- 
caine," with  some  hope  of  amusement. 

Cocaine  was  the  play  that  Dizzy  and  Jim  had  dif- 
fered about.  It  is  a  conversation  in  a  bedroom  be- 
tween two  cocaine  addicts,  one  a  prostitute,  the  other 


308  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

an  ex-prize  fighter.  Their  decision  to  end  their  lives 
is  frustrated  by  the  turning  off  of  the  gas  meter  for 
failure  to  pay  the  gas  bill.  Janet  had  rehearsed  the 
part  tragically;  she  liked  herself  as  an  abandoned  wo- 
man, futile  even  in  death.  She  had  talked  much 
about  the  sublime  irony  of  it. 

But  as  she  came  dragging  wearily  in  her  entrance 
was  greeted  by  the  hysterical  laughter  of  the  audience. 
Pat's  opening  speech,  given  in  a  high-pitched  cackling 
voice,  brought  down  the  house.  Every  line  drew  a 
gale  of  merriment.  Pat,  an  old  actor,  made  the  most 
of  his  lines  and  played  them  for  their  full  comedy 
value.  Poor  Janet  struggled  on,  growing  more  tragic 
every  moment.  The  heavier  her  tragedy,  the  more 
the  audience  laughed.  It  was  the  hit  of  the  evening. 

Janet  was  furious.  Raleigh  and  she  made  a  number 
of  remarks  about  the  badness  of  Pat's  performance, 
and  the  cheap  tricks  he  had  used  to  get  laughs.  But 
Cocaine  played  at  the  Custard  Pie  Club  every  night 
for  two  months,  while  other  plays  came  and  went. 

VII 

"That  sort  of  thing  may  be  all  right,"  said  Jim  on 
the  way  home,  "but  it's  not  my  idea — " 

"No,  it  isn't  mine,  either!" 

"I've  been  in  rotten  places,  seen  my  share  of  bad 
things,  I  suppose,  but  for  sheer  filth,  dirt,  rottenness — " 
he  stopped  for  words.  "Well,  it's  not  my  idea.  In 
a  way  I  wish  Dizzy  could  have  been  there  so  she  could 
have  seen — but  I'm  glad  she  wasn't.  I  wouldn't  want 
her  to  have  gone  through  it.  Really,  I  blush.  I  don't 
know.  Perhaps  I  should  have  taken  you  home!" 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Ward  failed  to  be 
thrilled  by  the  thought  of  being  protected  like  a  beau- 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  309 

tiful  flower  by  a  strong  man — the  American  ideal. 
She  wondered  why  Jim  didn't  thrill  her  more  and  make 
her  regret  Dizzy's  decision  over  again.  "He  is  rather 
stupid,  I'm  afraid.  I  wonder  why  Dizzy  liked  him  in 
the  first  place — " 


CHAPTER  VI 


WARD  still  kept  the  apartment.  Leaving  town  was 
more  than  she  could  bear.  Without  the  stimulation  of 
an  imaginary  Oz  in  the  crowd  about  her,  she  felt  that 
she  could  not  live.  If  she  walked  down  Michigan  ave- 
nue, she  had  the  feeling  that  she  might  meet  him,  that 
he  saw  her  from  the  window  of  a  club,  that  he  was 
coming  around  the  corner. 

Wherever  she  dined  he  sat  at  the  table  just  behind 
her,  or  else  would  come  in  the  next  moment.  And  she 
never  was  rewarded  with  even  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  the 
real  Oz.  He  made  no  sign.  She  wrote  him  three  let- 
ters but  tore  them  all  up  before  they  reached  the  mail 
box,  and  almost  called  him  up  more  than  once. 

She  had  moments  of  happiness.  Dazzling,  intense 
moments,  when  her  unhappiness  seemed  to  lift,  as  heat 
will  be  pulled  off  the  shoulder  on  a  scorching  day  if 
one  goes  into  a  cool  cellar.  The  heavenly  relief  of  the 
contrast  made  her  hilarious  with  joy.  She  would  sing, 
and  dance  about  her  room  if  she  were  alone,  or  bound 
gayly  along  the  street. 

One  morning  she  awoke  with  the  electric  current  of 
happiness  running  through  her.  She  jumped  out  of 
bed,  singing,  bathed  like  a  young  robin  in  spring,  tak- 
ing delight  in  the  feel  of  the  water,  her  spirits  glowing 
with  her  blood,  as  she  rubbed  herself.  Dressing  was 
a  game,  and  when  a  huge  bunch  of  pink  sweet  peas 
from  Billy  Hammersmith  was  delivered,  she  jumped 
about  like  a  vivacious  child  before  a  Christmas  tree, 

310 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  311 

or  a  moving  picture  actress  registering  bliss  of  an 
extreme  sort. 

Out  into  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  morning,  cor- 
saged  by  her  pink  flowers,  she  strode,  a  young  battle- 
ship, weaponed  with  all  the  devices  of  nature  and 
youth.  Beauty,  health,  vigor — she  felt  them  all  as  she 
had  never  been  conscious  of  them  before;  and  as  each 
step  snapped  on  the  pavement  she  was  emotionally 
luxuriating  in  her  happiness,  shutting  out  past  and 
future,  wanting  nothing,  yet  knowing  that  it  could 
not  last,  like  a  child  at  a  matinee. 

Dearborn  street  brimmed  with  morning.  Squat 
ugly  houses  leering  with  a  whimsical  and  dusty  gran- 
deur of  thirty  years  ago  made  the  parade  a  thin  paper 
mask  of  two  dimensions.  Back  of  it  lay  a  solidness  of 
joy,  happiness,  the  flash  and  glitter  of  sunny  days 
which  transuded  the  scene  with  rainbow  sequins. 
Boarding  houses,  bawdy  houses,  even  refuges  for 
Christian  young  women  oozed  the  silver  and  gold  liq- 
uid of  her  contentment. 

She  was  free  of  it — free  of  the  pain.  And  life  with- 
out the  heavy  blackness  that  had  held  her  was  very 
sweet. 

The  slate-grey  outline  of  buildings,  the  giant  snor- 
ing of  the  Loop,  the  blackened  powder  of  the  streets 
in  her  nostrils  elated  her  with  the  idea  of  approach. 
She  seemed  to  soar  along — going  somewhere — going 
somewhere.  The  sea-green  river  crossed,  she  pushed 
her  way  head-high  through  clusters  of  soiled  swarthy 
men,  vaguely  exotic.  Here  two  men  shoved  a  box  of 
round  moon-colored  grapefruit — "Some  baby!';  And 
here  four  men  stopped  bullying  a  profound-looking 
horse  that  resembled  Woodrow  Wilson  to  look  their 
fill  at  Ward  crossing  South  Water  street.  And  Ward, 
looking  up,  smiled  into  the  eyes  of  a  frankly  imperti- 


312  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

nent  lad  who  had  asked,  "Where'dja  git  the  flowers, 
kid?" 

II 

Luncheon  time  found  her  across  the  table  from  a 
cunctuous  Scotchman. 

"I'm  happy  today  and  it's  so  wonderful,"  she  told 
him. 

He  looked  at  her  with  careful  deliberation. 

"You're  not  happy,"  he  said  slowly,  "don't  tell  me 
you're  happy.  You've  got  a  sad  smile." 

Tears  sprang  to  Ward's  eyes.  Suffocating,  spider- 
web  bands  like  twisted  black  chiffon  were  binding  her 
once  more,  chaining  her  from  happiness.  What  a  ficti- 
tious, unreal  sort  of  feeling  it  had  been.  Under  her 
eyes  the  skin  was  lavender  velvet. 

"Why  did  you  say  that  to  me?" 

"You  are  very  unhappy?" 

An  impulse  to  luxuriate  in  confession  came.  But 
crowding  on  it  was  a  pain  so  intense  that  she  clung  to 
the  table — Oz,  Oz,  Oz.  The  sympathy  in  the  eyes 
across  the  table  was  unbearable.  Why  couldn't  she 
have  Oz  to  comfort  her  in  her  pain!  The  emotion 
reached  its  apex,  the  crisis  declared  itself,  her  inner 
forces  gave  way  under  the  heavy  burden,  dragged  by 
great  clots  of  sadness.  She  leaned  forward  in  her 
chair  in  such  a  state  of  depression  that  her  mind  was 
blank.  Lifeless,  she  lost  the  capacity  for  pain  in  a 
moment  of  vacuum,  until  in  sharp  recovery  she  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands  and  gave  way  to  body-racking 
sobs. 

A  second  of  exquisite  physical  relief  followed  each 
sob.  Self-pity  overwhelmed  her.  Sitting  still  became 
impossible. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  313 

"I  must  go — you  must  excuse  me."  She  got  up  and 
left  the  restaurant  for  the  street. 

Movement  always  left  relief.  In  the  crowds,  run- 
ning against  each  other,  meaninglessly  walking  this 
way  and  that,  she  became  a  particle,  running  into  fat 
men,  bumping  girls,  pricking  and  being  pricked  with 
elbows,  flying  aimlessly,  swiftly  away  from  something 
that  was  always  with  her,  ahead  of  her.  She  began  to 
push  the  air  before  her  with  her  hands  as  if  her  pain 
was  something  physical,  something  outside  herself  that 
she  could  clear  away. 

On  and  on  she  walked,  pushing,  pushing,  pushing. 

Ill 

And  then  one  twilight,  when  the  streets  had  cleared 
of  the  day's  crowds,  Ward  saw  Oz  on  Michigan  boule- 
vard. He  passed  her  hurrying.  Her  faculties  seemed 
to  suspend. 

"Oz!" 

He  walked  swiftly  on.  The  set  of  his  head  was  the 
same.  His  walk — same  old  walk,  jaunty,  youthful, 
debonair,  like  a  forty-year-old  actor  who  plays  college 
boy  parts.  She  loved  him  so.  She  almost  ran  as  she 
followed  him,  waiting  for  him  to  turn  around.  Surely 
he  knew  she  was  there,  surely,  surely.  It  was  so  plain 
and  so  real  that  they  were  both  there  together.  He 
would  have  to  turn  around  in  a  moment.  She  almost 
overtook  him,  then  fell  back.  He  must  turn  around. 
But  he  hurried  on  in  a  fresh  spurt  and  she  had  to  go 
ahead  swiftly  not  to  lose  him. 

The  swinging  doors  of  a  men's  club.  "Oz!"  And 
he  was  gone. 

Her  spirit  slackened.  It  couldn't  be  true.  Every- 
thing had  seemed  about  to  come  right,  and  then — he 


314  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

was  inside  the  club  and  she  was  outside.  Always  out- 
side. 

Her  mood  came  rushing  with  the  force  of  a  panic. 
She  forgot  about  her  engagement  for  dinner  and  hur- 
ried, hurried,  hurried  back  to  the  hotel. 

He  didn't  hear,  he  didn't  hear!  Didn't  he  hear? 
Didn't  he  see?  Didn't  he  know?  How  could  he  help 
feeling  that  she  was  there?  She  threw  herself  on  the 
bed  and  prayed  out  loud,  a  sobbing  hysterical  prayer. 

IV 

She  sobbed  until  her  body  grief  was  spent.  And 
then  her  spirit  searched  relief  again,  a  way  out,  a  way 
out.  Some  place  a  door  must  open;  she  could  not  bear 
the  pain.  She  rose  and  turned  on  the  light  beside  her 
small  mirror.  Her  hair  outlined  her  head  in  ragged, 
unnatural  patches,  like  wild  underbrush  on  the  edge  of 
some  remote  river. 

Oh  the  pity  of  it,  the  cruelty  of  the  story  of  the  per- 
fect prince.  The  prince,  the  prince,  the  perfect  prince, 
the  prince  of  her  fairy  tale.  Her  fairy  tale!  How  piti- 
ful. The  cruelty,  the  agony — Oh! 

A  little  child,  she  thought,  must  learn  there  is  no 
Santa  Claus,  now  she  must  come  to  find  there  was  no 
prince.  The  gleaming  rose-pink  story  that  was  to  be 
her  life  had  turned  a  dull  and  rusty  gray.  It  mocked 
her  like  a  grinning  fiend.  See  me,  it  said,  see  me! 
Ha,  ha,  a  prince?  A  fairy  prince  who  loves  his  liquors, 
loves  his  food,  his  princely  self  far  more  than  you! 
And  women,  too,  perhaps.  .  .  . 

The  love  legend  brought  her  surcease.  Oz  could 
not  be  the  hero  of  that.  So  hope  rose,  bedizened,  a 
fabric  of  cheese  cloth  to  shield  her  a  time  from  her 
pain. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  315 


One  night  she  dined  with  Mortimer  Glosser  at  the 
club  on  Michigan  boulevard  where  Oz  lived.  Her 
spirit  waited  on  tip-toe  for  him  to  enter.  Conscious  of 
her  own  beauty,  sick  with  fear  of  encountering  Oz's 
eyes  at  last,  she  walked  through  the  soon-to-be  crapu- 
lent crowds  who  were  celebrating  the  last  gala  night 
of  some  unimportant  festivities  that  had  lasted  as  long 
as  a  Normandy  wedding. 

Oz,  Oz,  Oz,  somewhere  in  that  throng  of  dining, 
laughing  people,  his  eyes  had  surely  found  her.  She 
kept  her  head  high  and  turned  neither  to  the  right 
nor  left.  If  she  should  see  him! 

They  found  their  table.  Ward  pretended  to  eat 
while  Mortimer  engorged  himself.  Here  a  housewife, 
richly  hung  with  garments  of  a  courtesan,  was  red- 
faced  from  much  good  living.  Her  attendant,  an  un- 
fed looking  man,  monastic  in  a  suit  of  primeval  even- 
ing clothes,  watched  the  scene  with  mordant  eyes. 
And  over  here  blonde  girls  laughed,  and  fat  men  leered. 
And  pallid  thin  men,  liquorless,  scattered  through  the 
room,  were  caped  in  dull  and  gloomy  thoughts  as  if 
they  meant  to  spend  the  night  with  melancholy:  every- 
where were  stiff  men,  pompous  men,  ugly  small  fea- 
tured, or  repulsively  massive  men — but  no  Oz. 

Then  said  Mortimer  Glosser:  "I  hear  your  friend 
Oz  is  to  be  married." 

Like  a  bucket  falling  into  a  well  to  pull  against  its 
chain,  her  heart  plunged,  then  caught  itself. 

Brows  lifted,  nostrils  tightened,  she  wondered  if  she 
showed  emotion  in  her  face.  Suddenly  her  nerves 
steadied.  She  felt  certain  of  control. 

"Married?" 


316  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Yeah.  Woman  he's  known  for  years.  Childhood 
sweetheart  or  something!" 

Ward's  eyebrows  asked,  What  do  you  mean? 

"She's  a  widow.  Oz  used  to  be  in  love  with  her 
when  she  was  a  girl.  She  married  a  man  named 
Marchrose,  and  they  didn't  get  along.  When  she  di- 
vorced him,  everyone  thought  she'd  marry  Oz,  but  she 
married  a  man  with  several  millions  instead.  She 
didn't  get  along  with  him  either.  I  guess  it  was  a  case 
of  marrying  not  wisely  but  too  well." 

He  stopped  to  let  this  attempted  epigram  ink  itself 
permanently  on  the  conversation.  Ward  managed  a 
smile. 

"Well,  so  this  second  husband  obligingly  gets  him- 
self jammed  up  in  an  automobile  accident,  toddles  off 
to  a  hospital  and  quietly  dies,  leaving  all  his  money 
to— Oz." 

"Oz?" 

"Well,  Oz  gets  it.  He  leaves  it  to  his  widow,  and 
she  promptly  offers  it  and  self  to  Oz,  who  accepts  it 
gratefully!" 

"It's  rather  warm  in  here  isn't  it."  Ward  said  the 
first  inane  thing  she  could  think  of.  "Have  you  been 
out  to  the  dunes  again?" 

His  favorite  subject,  the  Indiana  sand  dunes,  where 
he  liked  to  go  and  spend  week  ends. 

He  talked  for  some  time  while  Ward  sat  thinking  of 
means  to  get  away. 

And  then  Oz  was  standing  by  the  table  looking  down 
at  her.  Feeling  as  if  she  were  inhaling  ether  she  held 
out  her  hand,  smiled. 

"You're  looking  very  charming  as  usual  in  that 
black  gown." 

She  was  able  to  produce  an  imitation  badinage. 

"Yes,  it's  the  same  old  gown." 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  317 

"As  usual!  I  referred  to  you,  charming  you,  not 
the  gown." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  courageously  and  for  a  second 
each  saw  the  essence  of  the  other,  the  inherent  secret 
existence  of  both  revealed  itself  until  the  terrible  eter- 
nity blurred,  ended. 

Oz  was  gone. 

Ward,  in  a  daze,  went  on  with  her  dinner.  The 
final  humiliation  had  come.  Oz  knew  her  shameful 
mental  pursuit  of  him. 

He  knew.  Even  the  splendor -of  that  last  parting 
was  tawdry.  There  was  nothing  left. 

And  he  was  going  to  marry  a  woman  of  whom  she 
had  never  heard. 


CHAPTER  VII 


LATER,  while  they  were  dancing,  she  saw  Jim  How- 
ells.     When  the  music  stopped  he  crossed  the  ball 
room  delightedly,  but  stopped  anxiously  before  her. 
"What's  the  matter,  don't  you  feel  well?" 
"I'm  a  little  dizzy.    I've  caught  cold  perhaps.  .  .  ." 
"Say,  you'd  better  go  home.    You  look  ready  to 
drop." 

She  was  conscious  of  a  nebulous  wonder  about  Oz. 
Had  he  noticed.  .  .  .?  Had  he  noticed  .  .  .  had  he 
noticed  .  .  .  what?  She  couldn't  think.  This  must 
be  insanity  ...  or  maybe  death  .  .  .  She  couldn't 
think.  .  .  .  Everything  had  happened  to  her  .  .  . 
the  last  cruel  thing  had  happened  .  .  .  Oz  knew  .  .  . 
the  prince  had  ridden  away  .  .  .  leaving  her  alone  by 
the  roadside,  unfit  .  .  .  she  couldn't  suffer  anything 
more,  anything  worse.  .  .  . 


n 


A  nurse  was  bending  over  her,  Dr.  Smart  was  stand- 
ing beside  her.  She  opened  her  tired  eyes  wider  to 
take  in  the  white  and  green  room  where  she  lay. 

"Am  I  in  a  hospital?" 

The  nurse  handed  a  thermometer  to  the  doctor. 

"Well,  my  girl,  since  you  ask  me,  you  are  in  a 
hospital,"  said  Dr.  Smart.  She  closed  her  eyes. 

"What's  the  matter  with  me?"  she  asked  after  about 

318 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  319 

three  days  of  rest,  surprised  to  see  that  the  doctor  and 
nurse  were  still  standing  there. 

"You've  been  sick,"  said  the  doctor  smiling.  "Now, 
Ward,  be  a  good  girl  and  don't  ask  questions  until 
you're  feeling  better.  You're  going  to  be  all  right." 

She  closed  her  eyes  thankfully.  How  wonderful 
Doctor  Smart  was.  Really  some  one  ought  to  tell  him 
what  a  good  doctor — what  a  comfort — she  hadn't 
much  voice,  but  that  at  least  was  due  him  after  all  he 
had  done  for  her. 

"Dr.  Smart,"  she  said  weakly,  "you're  a  good  doc- 
tor!" 

Again  she  sank  to  rest.  This  time  she  slept  for  five 
days,  she  thought,  and  woke  to  find  the  doctor  and 
nurse  still  there.  Dr.  Smart  was  a  good  doctor.  Some 
one  ought  to  tell  him. 

"Dr.  Smart,  you're  a  good  doctor!" 

There.  That  was  done.  Now  she  could  rest.  Dr. 
Smart  would  take  care  of  her.  You  could  depend  on 
him.  If  only — if  only  God  were  like  Dr.  Smart. 


Ill 


As  soon  as  her  temperature  was  normal  Sari  came 
to  see  her. 

"Jim  Howells  brought  you  home,  raving.  You 
talked  and  talked  about  black  chiffon  bands  that  were 
binding  you.  I  called  Dr.  Smart  and  he  took  you  to  a 
hospital  at  once." 

"Did  I  make  a  complete  fool  of  myself  at  the  club?" 

"I  don't  think  so.  Ward,  you  couldn't  make  a  fool 
of  yourself.  You  remind  me  of  Cecil's  cousin  Roger 
who  boasts  that  he's  a  gentleman  even  when  he's 
drunk.  He  told  me  that  even  under  the  influence  of 


320  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

liquor  he  simply  couldn't  do  an  indelicate  thing  .  .  . 
well  .  .  .  you'd  have  to  see  him  to  be  really  amused 
at  that.  But  I  don't  believe  anyone  noticed  anything. 
You  know  Jim  and  his  tact.  He  even  got  Mortimer 
Glosser,  that  old  fish,  to  thinking  you  were  all  right." 

"Jim  is  a  dear."  Her  eyes  filled  with  weak  tears. 
Cloud-like  thoughts  of  herself  and  Jim,  of  Oz  and 
Dizzy  were  faintly  sad  like  music  heard  over  hills 
caped  in  twilight.  It  was  all  over  about  Oz.  In  her 
white  bed,  she  felt  safe  from  all  those  racking,  tortur- 
ing past  weeks. 

She  went  to  sleep  smiling. 


IV 


She  found  a  room  in  a  hotel  very  near  to  Sari  and 
Cecil  and  took  her  meals  with  them.  She  spent  long 
hours  with  the  babies  in  the  park.  And  she  walked 
and  walked  by  herself,  thinking,  thinking. 

Tramping  through  the  park  in  the  crisp  fall  after- 
noons she  thought  over  her  whole  life,  and  tried  to 
think  why  she  alone  of  the  four  girls  had  failed  to  find 
happiness.  .  .  Were  the  other  girls  happy?  She 
wondered.  Did  Dizzy  unbearably  want  Jim?  No,  or 
she  would  have  taken  him.  Still,  she  had  had  a  chance 
to  take  Oz.  What  then?  An  ideal.  They  had  both 
dung  to  ideals.  The  love  legend,  after  all,  had  meant 
more  to  her  than  any  individual.  Yes,  that  was  so, 
and  avoiding  the  hero  of  the  legend  had  meant  more  to 
Dizzy  than  Jim.  Her  re-action  against  it  had  carried 
her  too  far.  She  should  have  married  Jim.  .  .  . 

But  her  mind  was  drifting  off  the  subject.  She  must 
come  back  to  herself  .  .  ideals  .  .  illusions.  That 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  321 

was  what  had  been  wrong  with  her.    Too  many  senti- 
mental illusions.  .  .  . 

Coming  in  from  her  walk  she  said  something  like 
this  to  Sari. 

"No,  I  can't  believe  you've  lost  your  illusions, 
Ward,"  Sari  answered.  "You  couldn't.  You  wouldn't 
be  you,  without  ideals." 

"People  are  cluttered  with  illusions  that  in  order  to 
become  successful  and  happy  they  have  to  lose,"  said 
Ward.  "Once  lost  they  are  free  to  think  clearly  and 
fight  their  way  to  the  top." 

"Perhaps,"  Sari  had  agreed.  "But  once  they  get  to 
the  top  they  build  a  new  set  of  illusions  if  they  are  the 
sort  that  had  them  in  the  first  place.  I  don't  believe 
I  ever  had  any." 

"I  don't  think  you  did,  either.  Neither  did  Dizzy. 
Just  Anita  and  I.  We  always  talked  about  our  ideals, 
and  aspirations,  and  we  were  always  so  sure  that  if 
you  did  as  you  were  told  you  would  ultimately  find 
your  prince  and  live  happily  ever  afterward." 

"Nita  never  really  believed  that.  She  only  pre- 
tended to.  You  notice  that  any  sentimental  notion  or 
conscientious  scruple  never  kept  Nita  from  doing 
exactly  as  she  pleased.  And  don't  you  remember  how 
popular  she  always  was  with  the  sort  of  girl  that 
needed  an  ideal  to  worship.  And  how  contemptuous 
she  really  was  of  them,  and  yet  how  she  led  them  on 
and  fed  their  admiration  for  her.  She  used  sentimen- 
tality. Held  herself  above  it,  and  dished  it  out  the 
way  Dizzy  says  the  capitalists  do  to  the  working 
classes  to  hold  them  in  subjection.  Propaganda  and 
publicity  are  Nita's  specialties." 

"Of  course,  in  a  way,  Nita's  been  the  most  success- 
ful of  any  of  us." 


322  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

"Oh  well,  if  you  call  that  success.  I  don't.  She's 
simply  achieved  a  place  where  she's  well-fed,  well 
taken  care  of,  and  doesn't  have  to  do  too  much  work. 
A  lot  of  idiots  probably  look  up  to  her.  They  always 
did  and  they  always  will.  She  works  hard  enough  to 
get  their  admiration  and  she  ought  to  have  it.  How- 
ever, I  consider  that  all  the  rest  of  us  amount  to  much 
more  than  Nita.  You,  Ward,  of  course,  have  always 
been  the  dupe  of  guff.  Dizzy  deliberately  and  intel- 
lectually was  never  deceived  by  any  of  the  things 
mother  taught  us.  And  I  just  knew,  without  think- 
ing, that  it  was  all  bunk.  I  used  to  watch  you  making 
boys  fall  for  you.  I  realize  now  that  you  did  it  uncon- 
sciously, but  I  used  to  imagine  that  you  had  myster- 
ious wiles,  and  imitate  some  of  your  tricks.  I  had  no 
belief  that  men  would  fall  for  me  unless  I  made  them. 
And  it  used  to  make  me  peeved  that  I  couldn't  make 
them.  But  I  never  had  any  notion  that  it  was  because 
my  real  prince  would  come  along  and  make  life  a 
bunch  of  roses.  I  never  even  thought  of  Cecil  in  that 
way.  He  was  just  something  new.  The  babies  were 
never  little  flowers  given  me  as  a  sacred  gift  from  on 
high.  They  were  just  little  nuisances  to  be  borne  with 
as  best  one  could,  and  take  care  of  because  they  were 
helpless  and  it  was  unfair  not  to.  And  I  got  to  love 
them,  and  I  got  to  love  Cecil.  I  didn't  love  him  when 
I  married  him  because  I  was  incapable  of  it.  But  we 
went  through  so  many  experiences  together  that  now  I 
couldn't  do  without  Cecil.  He  means  more  to  me  than 
fun  or  work,  or  any  of  the  things  that  used  to  occupy 
my  thoughts." 

It  wasn't  often  that  Sari  stopped  in  her  headlong 
flight  through  life  to  state  her  views  as  fully  as  this. 
Ward  had  been  very  receptive.  It  all  jibed  in  with 
her  formulating  philosophy. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  323 


But  Sari  herself  was  still  cherishing  the  illusion  that 
she  was  going  to  become  a  star  on  Broadway.  Jim 
Stein  of  the  Times,  whom  she  had  met  through  Dizzy, 
had  written  a  play  in  which  she  was  to  act  at  the  Cus- 
tard Pie  Club.  Jim  had  said  she  was  just  the  type  to 
portray  his  character — a  little  ribbon  clerk  who  de- 
cides that  she'd  rather  be  a  prostitute.  Cecil's  aunt's 
husband,  who  was  the  Chicago  representative  of  some 
well  known  New  York  producers,  had  agreed  to  come 
and  see  Sari  act.  If  it  went  well,  Jim  was  going  to  do 
it  into  a  three-act  play  and  Sari  was  going  to  star  in  it. 

On  opening  night  the  Custard  Pie  little  theater  pro- 
gressed through  two  acts  in  its  usual  manner.  And 
then  out  came  Sari,  and  went  through  her  lines  for 
some  moments  very  well.  Then  a  hoarse  raucous  noise 
distracted  the  audience,  and  three  clown  faces  ap- 
peared at  the  window.  Three  drunken  men  had  pro- 
cured step  ladders  and  had  climbed  up  to  see  the  show 
without  paying  admission.  The  audience  went  into 
gales  of  merriment.  The  three  men  went  through  the 
usual  asinine  performance  so  amusing  to  any  mob. 
Sari  struggled  on  through  her  tragic  lines  while  Tex 
Flynn,  ever  awake  to  opportunities  for  publicity,  could 
be  heard  through  the  uproar  saying  to  the  ever 
present  reporters:  "Come  right  in,  boys,  and  I'll 
give  you  the  story.  It's  the  best  story  you  ever 
seen." 

Sari  went  doggedly  through  the  scene,  while  the 
ironic  Jim  Stein  lines  brought  tears  of  joy  to  the 
audience  as  they  were  answered  by  the  three  garish 
faces  staring  barbaresquely,  bodilessly  in.  When  she 


324  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

had  finished,  she  walked  across  the  theater  heavily — 
and  into  her  rooms. 

Once  more,  she  had  lost  out.  Cecil's  uncle  would 
be  terribly  disgusted.  She  had  not  waited  for  his  ver- 
dict. 

VI 

Ward  decided  to  go  to  her  mother  in  California. 
There  was  nothing  to  keep  her  in  Chicago  any  more. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


WARD  sat  looking  out  of  the  window  of  the  moving 
train.  Motion,  changing  landscape,  the  pleasant  glare 
of  the  late  afternoon  sunlight  exhilarated  her.  She 
had  the  sense  of  holding  all  of  life's  wisdom  in  her  lap. 

Soothed  by  the  sense  of  going  forward,  she  planned 
her  life.  At  last,  she  thought,  I  am  going  ahead  on 
clear,  definite  lines. 

Across  the  aisle  Tin-tin  sat  in  Olive's  lap  playing 
with  a  chain  of  red  and  green  beads  that  the  old  wo- 
man wore  around  her  neck.  Cecil  Jr.  slept  gracefully 
opposite  them.  Ward  smiled  into  Olive's  eyes — the 
woman  of  her  mother's  generation,  yet  so  unlike  her 
mother — as  different  as  she  was  from  Dizzy — or  Sari 
from  Nita.  Yet  people  were  continually  talking  about 
the  modern  girl — as  if  she  could  be  made  into  a  com- 
posite photograph. 

The  decision  to  bring  the  babies  along  had  been 
sudden — as  sudden  as  the  unexpected  success  of  Cecil 
and  Sari. 

The  disastrous  premiers  of  Jim  Stein's  play  had  had 
a  surprising  back-fillip.  Cecil's  aunt's  husband  had 
called  up  the  next  day,  radiant  with  enthusiasm.  He 
was  anxious  to  put  the  thing  on  the  Orpheum  circuit, 
as  he  considered  it  one  of  the  funniest  things  he  had 
ever  seen.  He  wanted  some  sort  of  drunken  interrup- 
tion to  add  the  touch  that  had  been  given  it  on  the 

325 


326  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

opening  night  and  remembering  Cecil's  talent  for  play- 
ing any  instrument  known  to  the  world  of  jazz,  he  had 
suggested  that  Cecil  come  on,  dressed  as  a  tramp  and 
drowning  out  Sari,  first  with  the  saxophone  and  then 
with  the  ukulele.  With  this  change,  the  act  had  been 
rehearsed  before  him,  booked  at  three  hundred  a  week, 
and  the  young  De  Jonghes  were  to  all  appearances  on 
the  road  to  prosperity.  They  were  to  start  on  tour 
almost  immediately,  and  so  the  babies  were  to  go  to 
their  grandmother  with  Ward. 

Among  the  applicants  who  had  answered  Ward's 
advertisement  for  a  nurse  to  go  to  California  had  been 
Olive.  The  matrimonial  picking  was  hard  in  Chicago, 
and  Olive  had  heard  that  conditions  were  much  better 
in  California.  When  she  looked  in  the  old  woman's 
eager  eyes,  Ward  did  not  have  the  heart  to  choose  a 
more  competent  applicant.  Olive  was,  after  all,  trust- 
worthy and  devoted. 


II 


A  puff  of  white  smoke  from  the  engine  blotted  out 
the  landscape,  a  white,  solid,  beautiful  thing,  until  it 
dissolved. 

Most  things  are  like  that  smoke  screen,  said  Ward 
to  herself  softly.  One  went  through  smoke  screens 
all  the  time.  Just  ahead  there  was  always  one  that 
seemed  impassable.  One  had  to  be  as  sure  of  oneself 
as  the  engine  of  the  car  was — a  sureness  so  certain  that 
it  was  unconscious,  then  one  plodded  steadily  through 
and  saw  that  troubles,  joys,  everything,  was  only  a 
sort  of  smoke  screen.  Oneself,  that  was  the  reality, 
the  rest  should  be  recognized  as  unimportant. 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  327 


in 

Looking  through  the  train  window  she  grimly  re- 
solved that  no  person  should  ever  again  affect  her 
destiny  as  Rod  had  done,  as  Oz  had  done.  No  one. 
There  was  a  kind  of  exultation  in  the  thought.  She 
would  love  again,  yes,  but  never  with  that  agony  of 
self-abandonment,  that  painful  submergence  of  her 
personality  in  another.  Never  would  she  sob  herself 
to  sleep,  or  wait  tense  with  misery  beside  a  telephone 
that  didn't  ring.  That  sort  of  love  was  criminal — 
destructive — debasing. 

Her  mother  had  loved  that  way — first  her  husband 
and  then  her  children.  She  would  probably  fasten  the 
same  tentacles  of  affectionate  tyranny  on  her  grand- 
children. Poor  little  babies — warm  thoughts  of  them 
coursed  through  her. 

She  would  have  children.  The  thought  of  spinster- 
hood  would  not  do.  She  must  have  them  if  only  to 
prove  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  love  them  too  much. 
She  smiled  as  she  thought  of  Dizzy's  theory  that  no 
woman  wanted  children  except  to  experiment  on,  to 
move  about  like  little  puppets  that  were  too  weak  to 
revolt  against  her  will.  But  she  would  not  let  them 
rule  her  either.  She  would  love  them  and  still  keep 
peace  with  herself. 

Out  the  window  dusk  was  falling.  The  transparent 
blue  and  velvety  sky  had  a  single  gold  star  gleaming 
through  as  if  a  golden  story  was  hid  from  the  world 
except  for  that  tiny  rent,  where  it  shone  through  the 
blue  stuff  of  the  twilight. 

Here  Ward  saw  beauty.  And  felt  herself  somehow 
in  it.  The  thing  meant  to  her  in  some  strange  way, 
the  happiness  that  was  in  her  heart,  and  the  odd 


328  THE  LOVE  LEGEND 

vibrant  pain  that  was  there  at  the  bottom  of  it  all. 
That  was  it,  that  was  beauty,  that  was  the  meaning 
of  pain.  Beauty  rides  on  pain,  a  gallant  mistress. 
And  in  the  subduing  and  conquering  of  pain  is  beauty. 


Her  life  was  to  be  like  a  swim  at  twilight  through  a 
sea  like  that  gold-split  blue  sky.  She  could  feel  the 
soft  caressing  water  on  her  body,  taste  the  fresh  even- 
ing air,  as  she  thought  of  the  blue  curtains  of  sky  and 
water  shading  from  the  brightness  beyond. 

Life  was  like  swimming.  And  with  her  three  sis- 
ters she  had  plunged  in  instead  of  waiting  on  the 
beach  as  the  other  Lakeshore  girls  had  done. 

Sari  had  tumbled  in,  anxious  to  be  there  no  matter 
what  might  befall  her.  She  had  met  storm  and  eddies, 
undertows  without  fear,  was  still  swimming  on  bravely, 
calmly.  Nita  had  waited  for  her  opportunity  and  then 
dived,  a  clear  straight  leap,  and  had  been  going  evenly 
and  surely  ever  since.  In  babyhood,  Dizzy  had  waded 
in,  walking  until  the  water  covered  her  chin  and  then 
had  learned  to  swim.  She,  Ward,  had  alone  encoun- 
tered dangerous  whirlpools,  and  that  was  because  she 
had  thought  a  sandbar  lay  just  beneath  where  she 
could  be  in  the  midst  of  everything,  and  still  not  strug- 
gle. There  was  no  sand  bar,  but  there  were  smooth, 
clear  stretches  where  the  expert  swimmer  using  all  his 
faculties  could  proceed  with  the  minimum  of  difficul- 
ties, and  enjoy  as  he  went.  If  he  saw  a  storm  ahead, 
by  clear  swimming  and  even  breathing  and  not  losing 
his  head  he  could  come  through  it  all  right.  And 
there  were  moments  of  sunset  and  rainbows  that  lent 
color  to  the  swim.  What  was  on  the  other  shore  did 
not  interest  her.  She  had  conquered  the  great  force 


THE  LOVE  LEGEND  329 

that  would  have  drawn  her  to  the  bottom  and  washed 
her  up  senseless  on  the  shore  from  which  she  had 
come.  She  felt  confident  in  her  power  to  swim  this 
lake  with  no  more  trouble.  .  .  . 

VI 

Thus  she  sat  modifying,  striving  to  harmonize  her 
new  conclusions  with  one  another,  forming  a  syncre- 
tism, and  thinking  that  she  had  no  more  illusions. 

Four  of  them  were  traveling  happily,  expectantly 
toward  the  west — fortune,  fame  and  perfection  lying 
just  ahead.  But  Ward  was  the  only  one  of  them 
who  sat  philosophising,  marking  figures  on  the  white 
sheet  of  the  future,  and  coloring  them  with  crimson, 
golden  and  sapphire  dreams.  Brilliant,  clear  and 
steady,  her  life  would  be  a  great  blue  jewel,  shooting 
blue  rays  in  the  sunlight  .  .  .  and  perhaps  in  time  to 
come  some  other  man  ...  the  love  legend,  like  hope, 
is  deathless. 


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